It can be of no interest to you to hear the many fights we had in protecting the property of our master during the first few moons after my arrival. Almost every night we were put in danger of lives, for the curs came in such large numbers that there was a chance of our being pulled to pieces in the struggle. Yet we kept steady watch; and after a time, finding, I suppose, that we were never sleeping at our post, and that our courage rose with every fresh attack, the thieves gradually gave up open war, and only sought to entrap the birds by artifice; and, like the foxes and cats, came sneaking into the grounds, and trusted to the swiftness of their legs rather than the sharpness of their teeth when Nip or I caught sight of them.

And thus a long, long time passed away. I had, meanwhile, grown to my full size, and was very strong and active: not so stout as I have got in these later years, when my toes sometimes ache with the weight which rests on them, but robust and agile, and as comely, I believe, as most dogs of my age and descent.

The uniformity of my life, which I have spoken of as making me so happy, was interrupted only by incidents that did not certainly cause me displeasure. I renewed my acquaintance with "Fida," no longer little Fida, for she had grown to be a beautiful lady-dog. Our second meeting was by chance, but we talked like old friends, so much had our first done to remove all strangeness. I don't think the next time we saw each other was quite by accident. If I remember rightly, it was not; and we often met afterwards. We agreed that we should do all we could to assist one another, though what I could do for so rich and clever a lady-dog I could not imagine, although I made the promise very willingly. On her part, she did for me what I can never sufficiently repay. She taught me to read, lending me books containing strange stories of far-off countries, and beautiful poetry, written by some deep dogs of the city; she taught me to write; and in order to exercise me, made me compose letters to herself, which Nip carried to her, bringing me back such answers as would astonish you; for when you thought you had got to the end, they began all over again in another direction. Besides these, she taught me to speak and act properly, in the way that well-behaved dogs ought to do; for I had been used to the company of such low and poor animals, that it was not surprising if I should make sad blunders in speech and manners. I need not say that she taught me to love herself, for that you will guess I had done from the first day I saw her, when I was wet from my jump in the river, and she spoke to me such flattering words. No; she could not teach me more love for herself than I already knew. That lesson had been learnt by heart, and at a single sitting.

Our peaceful days were drawing to a close. Sir John died. Lady Bull lived on for a short time longer. Many said, when she followed, that she ate herself to death; but I mention the rumour in order to deny it, for I am sure it was grief that killed her. It is a pity some dogs will repeat everything they hear, without considering the mischief such tittle-tattle may occasion—although it has been asserted by many that in this case the false intelligence came from the Cats, who had no great affection for poor Lady Bull. Whatever the cause, she died, and with her the employment of poor Nip and myself. The young Bulls who came into possession of the estate, sold the preserves to a stranger; and as the new proprietor intended killing off the birds, and did not require keepers, there being no longer anything for them to do, we were turned upon the world.

The news came upon us so suddenly, that we were quite unprepared for it; and we were, besides, so far from being rich, that it was a rather serious matter to find out how we should live until we could get some other occupation. I was not troubled for myself; for, though I had been used to good feeding lately, I did not forget the time when I was often forced to go the whole day with scarce a bit to eat; but the thought of how poor old Nip would manage gave me some pain.

Having bid adieu to the peaceful cottage, where we had spent such happy times, we left the green fields and pleasant trees and proceeded to the town, where, after some difficulty, we found a humble little house which suited our change of fortune. Here we began seriously to muse over what we should do. I proposed making a ferry-boat of my back, and, stationing myself at the waterside near the "Mews," swim across the river with such cats as required to go over and did not like to walk as far as where the boat was accustomed to be. By these means I calculated on making enough money to keep us both comfortably. Nip thought not. He said that the cats would not trust me—few cats ever did trust the dogs—and then, though he did not dislike cats, not at all, for he knew a great many very sensible cats, and very good ones too, he did not like the idea of seeing his friend walked over by cats or dogs, or any other animal, stranger or domestic. Besides, there were other objections. Strong as I was, I could not expect, if I made a boat of myself, that I could go on and on without wanting repair any more than a real boat; but where was the carpenter to put me to rights, or take out my rotten timbers and put in fresh ones. No; that would not do; we must think of something else.

It must not be imagined that Nip made all this long speech in one breath, or in a dozen breaths. It took him a whole morning to explain himself even as clearly as I have tried to do; and perhaps I may still have written what he did not quite intend, for his words came out with a jump, one or two at a time, and often so suddenly that it would have startled a dog who was not used to his manner.

Nip himself made the next proposal, and though I did not exactly like it, there seemed so little choice, that I at once agreed to do my part in the scheme. Nip was the son of a butcher, and though he had followed the trade but a short time himself, he was a very good judge of meat. He, therefore, explained that if I would undertake to become the seller, he would purchase and prepare the meat, and he thought he could make it look nice enough to induce the dogs to come and buy.

Our stock of money being very small, a house-shop was out of the question, so there was no chance of getting customers from the better class,—a thing which I regretted, as I had little taste for the society of the vulgar; but, again, as it could not be helped, the only thing to do was to make the best of it. A wheelbarrow was therefore bought by Nip, with what else was necessary to make me a complete "walking butcher," and having got in a stock of meat the day before, Nip cut, and contrived, and shaped, and skewered, in so quiet and business-like a way as proved he knew perfectly well what he was about. With early morning, after Nip had arranged my dress with the same care as he had bestowed upon the barrow and its contents, I wheeled my shop into the street, and amid a great many winks of satisfaction from my dear old friend, I went trudging along, bringing many a doggess to the windows of the little houses by my loud cry of "Me-eet! Fresh me-eet!"

As I was strange in my new business, and did not feel quite at my ease, I fancied every dog I met, and every eye that peeped from door and casement, stared at me in a particular manner, as if they knew I was playing my part for the first time, and were watching to see how I did it. The looks that were cast at my meat, were all, I thought, intended for me, and when a little puppy leered suspiciously at the barrow as he was crossing the road, no doubt to see that it did not run over him, I could only imagine that he was thinking of the strange figure I made, and my awkward attempt at getting a living. Feelings like these no doubt alarm every new beginner; but time and habit, if they do not reconcile us to our lot, will make it at least easier to perform, and thus, after some two hours' journeying through the narrow lanes of Caneville, I did what my business required of me with more assurance than when I first set out.