"'Remarkable is his love of truth; should he have done anything that deserves punishment, he approaches me with his head hanging down and a very dejected tail—replying to the question as to whether he deserves a whipping with a reluctant "yes," and to a further enquiry as to whether he is ashamed of himself, he responds with an emphatic "yes—yes—yes!"
"'But as is the case with children, example and precept are of far greater use than corporeal punishment, although this cannot be neglected altogether. The axiom that we evolve in accordance with the treatment meted out to us is as true in the case of an animal as it is with that of a human being, and the more this is recognized and laid to heart the shorter will be the martyrdom still inflicted upon the animal kingdom.'
"In the March of this year Fräulein Hoffmann was kind enough to communicate the following incident to me; it corroborates an earlier observation made by Frau Dr. Moekel (compare 'Communications of the Society for Animal Psychology,' 1914, p. 6, or 'The Soul of an Animal,' 1916, p. 81).
"'I was sitting in the garden reading, when I heard the sound of birds twittering over their food in a tree hard by. Harras watched them attentively for some time and I told him the names of the birds—they were jays and wood-peckers. The next morning he did not come up to my room a second time with the maid, although he can generally hardly contain himself until he has had his breakfast given him. At length, when he did appear, I asked him if he had seen the birds again, and he answered "yes"; then to my question as to their names he gave "her" and "spct" (i.e. "Häher" and "Specht" = jay and woodpecker).'"
"D. Report on the Dog Roland
"Little Roland, who received his first tuition from Frau Dr. Moekel, unfortunately came to an untimely end—owing to an accident.[10 ] Concerning this, Frau Dr. Moekel wrote to me in March, 1915, as follows:
"'My dear little Roland—whom we called "Guckerl" ( = Peep-eyes), because of his wonderful eyes, has been run over by a motor-car. He suffered terribly for two days and died on 19 March. His death is not only a sorrow to me, but a loss to the interests of the cause we have at heart, for Roland had begun to make the most delightful remarks quite spontaneously. On the last evening before the accident, he came to me and—without having been questioned—rapped out: "Rolf ark bei (s) d arm roland" ( = Rolf has badly bitten poor Roland). I was not able at the time to translate his little utterance, and it was only after his death that I remembered my notes. Then, on putting them together it transpired that Roland had been bitten by Rolf because he had chased Daisy, our kitten.
"'Roland could recognize money, stamps and bank-notes; he could count flowers and bricks, and knew all the various colours and scents as well as count tones, recognize melodies and tell the time.'
"I have not added my report made with reference to Lola to the above, the object of my book being to make the reader acquainted with this dog."