“‘I was informed that on a moonlight night it took three of them to make a shadow. I would not have believed myself that less than a dozen could produce anything like a respectable shade.
“‘Well, one landlord, who had been master of the hounds, had only two of the pack left. He and his family had lived during the winter upon the others.
“‘The first of these two dogs, poor creature, fell to pieces trying to bark at me—just collapsed like a house of cards.
“‘The second animal you see with me. His sagacity was remarkable. He felt it his duty to bark at the stranger, but the fate of his companion warned him of the danger. So he leaned carefully against a wall, and succeeded in emitting a howl. I was struck by his extraordinary instinct. I bought him from his skeleton owner, a poor lath of a fellow you could blow out with a puff like a rush-light.
“‘I gave the man a shilling for him—in two sixpences, so that he could balance himself. If he had got the shilling to carry in either side pocket, it would have brought him down.
“‘I shall always take credit to myself for preserving that poor man’s centre of gravity.
“‘I brought the dog to my hotel. I left him in the dining-room, but, fearing he might slip under the door, I tied a double knot on his tail. In my brief temporary absence he smelt some scraps of meat in the bottom of a cupboard. He got through the keyhole as far as his tail. He couldn’t get the double knot through but he was able to reach the meat. He fed. You see the result. He could get no farther in, and after his feed he couldn’t get back past his stomach. I found him in that position when I returned. To save him from a lingering death, I had to vivisect his tail.’
“We ventured to hint that there might be a mistake about the double knot. The dog was of a breed whose tails are naturally short; so much so, that it would require hydraulic pressure to squeeze a double knot out of one. Our special was too virtuously indignant to reply for a moment, but, coming to, he explained that, going to rest supperless, the Irish landlords’ dogs had acquired a habit of sleeping with their tails in their mouths, which filled their minds with dreams of food. This had a tendency to lengthen out the canine latter end. ‘And, at any rate,’ concluded our contributor, ‘I would scorn to tell a lie for the sake of a knot on a dog’s tail!’”
THE IRISH BRIGADE.
WHEN in sorrow and darkness they left their lov’d home,
They won, far away, o’er the ocean’s salt foam,
A bright wreath of laurels that never shall fade.
A welcome they found from fair France and proud Spain,
Whose honor and glory they fought to maintain;
And wherever the Sassenach showed his false face,
’Twas to meet the avengers of Erin’s disgrace,
And front the bright steel of the Irish Brigade!