"But that was a dog who could do nothing wonderful without his master."
"Just so," answered Mrs. Weldon; "and it surprises me
[Illustration: Negoro, with a threatening gesture that seemed half involuntary, withdrew immediately to his accustomed quarters.]
very much to see Dingo picking out these letters without a master to direct him."
"The more one thinks of it, the more strange it is," said Captain Hull; "but, after all, Dingo's sagacity is not greater than that of the dog which rang the convent bell in order to get at the dish that was reserved for passing beggars; nor than that of the dog who had to turn a spit every other day, and never could be induced to work when it was not his proper day. Dingo evidently has no acquaintance with any other letters except the two S V; and some circumstance which we can never guess has made him familiar with them."
"What a pity he cannot talk!" exclaimed the apprentice; "we should know why it is that he always shows his teeth at Negoro."
"And tremendous teeth they are!" observed the captain, as Dingo at that moment opened his mouth, and made a display of his formidable fangs.