When she knew how to calculate time, I put the following question to her: "How many minutes are there in an hour and a half—less thirty minutes?" Answer: "60." "How many hours are there in 240 minutes?" Answer: "4." By this time Lola had also learnt the value of money. About the end of April, 1916, she could distinguish between such coins as 5 Pfennige, 10 Pfennige, 50 Pfennige; 1 Mark, 2 Mark, and 5 Mark, and could compute the value of the Mark in Pfennige. When showing my friends what she could do in the way of arithmetic, her money sums were a special feature and delighted everybody. Here is an example, the date being 31 May: I put the question: "12 Mark less 4 Mark 10 Pfennige?" adding—"Tell me the Mark!" Answer: "7." "And the Pfennige?" "90" (i.e. 7 Mark 90 Pfennige.) Question: "What coins do you know?" Answer: "5, 10, 50; 1, 2." "And what are they all?" "Fenig." (i.e. Lola's mode of spelling Pfennig.) "Lola, how much of a Mark are 50 Pfennige? The answer has to do with fractions." Answer: "1/2." "How much are 225 Pfennige?" "2-1/4." "And 20 Pfennige?" "1/5." "And 60?" "3/5." "And 3/20 Mark, how many Pfennige?" "20." "No! "8/20 Mark?" Answer: "15." Towards the close of 1916 I taught her to raise numbers to various powers. At this she was slow in the beginning, but ultimately mastered it fairly well. She could soon answer such questions as—"33 = ?" with "27." And—"42 = ?" with "16," doing so, moreover, with ease; but up to now I have not been able to take her any further in the matter of extracting roots; in the first place I have had little time to give to it, and secondly, I am by no means on very sure ground there myself! I might, of course, have rubbed up my own rusty arithmetic had my interest in this particular accomplishment of Lola's been greater. But—for my own part, I attach greater importance to the psychological side of this question, and would far rather probe and delve within the depths of her dog-soul, exploring the extent of her other abilities, since arithmetic has already some brilliant exponents in, for instance, Krall's horses.
WORKING WITH OTHER PERSONS.
As may readily be imagined, it is by no means easy to induce an animal to work with any person it does not regard as its accepted teacher. On such occasions, it will behave like a small child, and be restless and even intractable. Often, too, while apparently willing, there may be something unfamiliar in the way in which a question is put (a matter for which no one can be blamed!), this resulting in the impossibility of getting an answer. Sometimes, too, the hand proffered to receive the replies is not held either straight or flat enough, or may not have the right slant that will enable the paw to rap without slipping off. Or, again a hand will be held too high, and thus cause much inconvenience to the animal. Then too, questions are carelessly worded, and seem strange to the method of thought to which its regular instructor has accustomed it, fresh explanations being then required to achieve any results at all. And so it comes, that only those can work successfully with animals who have already been frequently present at the teaching, and are then willing to try their luck, calmly and tranquilly—and quite alone with the animal, so as to carefully develop their own aptitude, as well as gain the confidence of their charge. It is true that in the case of the horses, others, besides Herr Krall, frequently did work with them. Indeed, my father got excellent answers from them, although he had to do with them for only a short time. But the matter seems rather more difficult with dogs; for one thing, they do not stand in front of a board—independently, so to speak—as do the horses; nor are they, from the beginning of their career as habitually accustomed to a variety of persons about them, at least, not to the extent that horses are. And yet they are sometimes quite ready to work with others, this being the case with Lola when I took her to Stuttgart, on a visit to a lady she already knew—Fräulein M. D., and who had put a few questions to her when here at the farm, questions which she had answered quite correctly. At Stuttgart there was a larger circle of listeners, and Lola sat in their midst upon a table. Fräulein M. D. stood beside me, and I asked her to put the question. I do not now remember what the question was, but I had extended my hand for the reply. Lola, however, turned to the speaker, and tapped the correct answer on that lady's arm, giving the second—and equally good one on Fräulein M. D.'s proffered hand. Lola is also in the habit of answering my people with either "yes" or "no" as the case may be, and on one occasion—when I was away from home, having gone to Munich for three weeks—she remained with Frau Kindermann at Hohenheim, and during that time, gave replies to all kind of questions put to her by that lady, as the following report will show:
"REPORT OF FRAU PROFESSOR KINDERMANN IN HOHENHEIM
"On my asking Lola: 'Where is your mistress?' she answered—'minchen!' (München). When I showed her the portrait of my son Karl and asked—'Of whom is this a picture?' Lola at once replied 'Karli.' On 28 October, I received a hamper of vegetables from my mother—known to Lola as 'Mama,' to whom she had been on a visit at Easter. Lola sniffed all the hamper over, then jumped about and wagged her tail joyfully—so I inquired: 'Do you know who the hamper is from?' 'Yes!' 'Then tell me!' 'Mama!' She did a few sums with me every day; told the time; the days of the week, and the temperature. Several acquaintances bore witness to the good work she did—and Lola told them her age—after she had been given the year of her birth. If I happened to be absent minded, Lola knew at once how to deceive me, for she seemed then, instinctively aware that I was not a match for her."
Lola also solved many little sums set her by my friend, Fräulein M. D. (at the time that lady had been staying with me on the farm to gain first-hand experience in the work), and on one occasion when Fräulein M. D. said, "Where is your mistress?" Lola spelt out that I was in the "segenhaus," which was quite true, I having told her shortly before that I was going there. To the great amusement of the maids, Lola sometimes elected to work in the kitchen, with the little seven-year-old son of the housekeeper, and it is reported that her answers were frequently right. I feel sure, in fact, that Lola would work with anyone who was adapted to work with her, and that she would give as good an account of herself, with them, as she does with me.
THE QUESTION OF POSSIBLE INFLUENCE