“They were never able to trace by what vessel the dog had left America, or in what part of England it had been landed.”
“One of the best stories I have heard of the sagacity of a dog,” remarked a lady, “was the account of Caniche, which, if not familiar to you, is well worth repeating.”
Mr. Lee begged her to favor the company with the story, when she began.
“Once upon a time, Dumont, a tradesman of the Rue St. Denis, in Paris, was walking with a friend, when he offered to lay a wager with the latter, that, if he were to hide a six-livre piece in the dust, his dog would discover it, and bring it to him. The wager was accepted, and the piece of money secreted, after being carefully marked.
“When the two had proceeded some distance from the spot, M. Dumont said to his dog that he had lost something, and ordered him to seek it. Caniche immediately turned back, and her master and companion pursued their walk to the Rue St. Denis.
“Meanwhile, a traveller, who happened to be just then returning in a small chaise from Vincennes, perceived the piece of money which his horse had kicked from its hiding place. He alighted, took it up, and drove to his inn.
“Caniche, after a careful search, had just reached the spot in pursuit of the lost piece, when the stranger picked it up. She at once set off after the chaise, went into the inn, and stuck close to the traveller. Having scented out the coin in the pocket of the latter, which she had been ordered to bring back, she leaped up incessantly at and about him. The traveller, supposing him to be some dog that had been lost by her master, regarded these movements as marks of fondness, and, as the animal was handsome, determined to keep her. He gave her a good supper, and, on retiring to bed, took her with him to his chamber. No sooner had he pulled off his pantaloons than they were seized by the dog: the owner, conceiving that she wanted to play with them, took them away again. The animal then began to bark at the door, which the traveller opened, under the idea that the dog wanted to go out. Caniche snatched up the pantaloons, and away she flew, the traveller posting after her, dressed only in his night shirt. Anxiety for the fate of a purse full of gold Napoleons of forty francs each gave redoubled quickness to his steps.
“Caniche, having a good start, ran full speed to her master’s house, where the stranger arrived a moment afterward, breathless and enraged. He accused the dog of robbing him.
“‘Sir,’ said the master, ‘my dog is a very faithful creature; and if she has run away with your pantaloons, it is because you have in them money which does not belong to you.’
“The traveller became still more exasperated.