THE SHIP DOG.
A young saucy Dog, having been found not to like any employment at home, was taken by a sea captain on board his ship, where, being well fed, he soon became both stout and fierce, and shewed himself off as such in every foreign port. He no sooner got ashore, than he held up his leg against every post and corner, and scraped the ground with his feet, quite regardless what dog he might bespatter; and if any of them happened to look sulkily at him, he thought nothing of seizing upon and rolling them in the kennel. If he happened to fall into company, he always began to give himself airs, to talk big, and to express his contempt for the dogs of the place. He would boast that he was from a better country, and belonged to a better family than any dog among them. In short, said he, “I come from Cheviot, the highest mountain in the world, and the very heart of all England, where my forefathers, thousands of years ago, assembled to hunt the Wild Bull, the Wolf, and the Boar.” He was once going on at this rate, when he was interrupted by a sedate, experienced Bitch, who assured him that there were good dogs and bad dogs in every country, and that the only difference arose from their education; that many of the forefathers he boasted of, had long since worried each other, and the remainder of them had become so troublesome, that part had been transported across the sea to another place; and she knew, from good authority, that both his father and his mother were hanged.