“Lord, I wish one of them had been there to have heard him, wouldn’t he a harpooned him? that’s all. He made a considerable of a long yarn of it, and as it was a text he had often enlarged on, I thought he never would have ended, but like other preachers, when he got heated, spit on the slate, rub it all out, and cypher it over again. Thinks I to myself, I’ll play you a bit, my boy.
“‘Exactly,’ sais I, ‘there is the same difference in dogs and horses as there is in men. Some are noble by nature, and some vulgar; each is known by his breed.’
“‘True,’ said he, ‘very true,’ and he stood up a little straighter as if it did him good to hear a republican say that, for his father was an Earl. ‘A very just remark,’ said he, and he eyed me all over, as if he was rather surprised at my penetration.
“‘But the worst of it,’ sais I, ‘is that a high bred dog or horse and a high bred man are only good for one thing. A pointer will point—a blood horse run—a setter will set—a bull dog fight—and a Newfoundlander will swim; but what else are they good for? Now a duke is a duke, and the devil a thing else. All you expect of him is to act and look like one (and I could point out some that don’t even do that). If he writes a book, and I believe a Scotch one, by the help of his tutor, did once, or makes a speech, you say, Come now, that is very well for a duke, and so on. Well, a marquis ain’t quite so high bred, and he is a little better, and so on, downwards; when you get to an earl, why, he may be good for more things than one. I ain’t quite sure a cross ain’t desirable, and in that way that you couldn’t improve the intelligence of both horses, noblemen, and dogs—don’t you think so, Sir?’ sais I.
“‘It is natural for you,’ said he, not liking the smack of democracy that I threw in for fun, and looking uneasy. ‘So,’ sais he (by way of turning the conversation), ‘the sagacity of dogs is very wonderful. I will tell you an anecdote of this one that has surprised everybody to whom I have related it.
“‘Last summer my duties led me to George’s Island. I take it for granted you know it. It is a small island situated in the centre of the harbour of Halifax, has a powerful battery on it, and barracks for the accommodation of troops. There was a company of my regiment stationed there at the time. I took this dog and a small terrier, called Tilt, in the boat with me. The latter was a very active little fellow that the General had given me a few weeks before. He was such an amusing creature, that he soon became a universal favourite, and was suffered to come into the house (a privilege which was never granted to this gentleman, who paid no regard to the appearance of his coat, which was often wet and dirty), and who was therefore excluded.
“‘The consequence was, Thunder was jealous, and would not associate with him, and if ever he took any liberty, he turned on him and punished him severely. This however he never presumed to do in my presence, as he knew I would not suffer it, and therefore, when they both accompanied me in my walks, the big dog contented himself with treating the other with perfect indifference and contempt. Upon this occasion, Thunder lay down in the boat and composed himself to sleep, while the little fellow, who was full of life and animation, and appeared as if he did not know what it was to close his eyes, sat up, looked over the gunwale, and seemed to enjoy the thing uncommonly. He watched the motions of the men, as if he understood what was required of them, and was anxious they should acquit themselves properly.’
“‘He knew,’ said I, ‘it was what sailors call the dog watch.’
“‘Very good,’ said he, but looking all the time as if he thought the interruption very bad.
“‘After having made my inspection, I returned to the boat, for the purpose of recrossing to the town, when I missed the terrier. Thunder was close at my heels, and when I whistled for the other, wagged his tail and looked up in my face, as if he would say, Never mind that foolish dog, I am here, and that is enough, or is there anything you want me to do?