The story is this. A young man had owned for some years a dog who was his constant companion. Recently the young man married, and moved with his bride and his dog into a house on the opposite side of the street from his father's house, his own former home. The dog was not happy, for the time and attention which had formerly been his was now given to the young wife. In many ways he showed his unhappiness and displeasure, in spite of the fact that the master tried to reconcile him and the bride to win him. One day when the master came home, his wife sat on his knee, while Jack was lying by the fire. He rose from his place, came over to the couple, and expressed his disapproval. "Why, Jack," said the master, "this is all right, she's a good girl," and as he spoke, he patted her arm. Jack looked up at him, turned away, and left the room. In a moment they heard a noise, and going into the hall, they found Jack dragging his bed downstairs. When he reached the front door, he whined to be let out, and when the door was opened, he dragged his bed down the steps, across the street to his old home, where he scratched for admittance. Since then he has never been back to his master, refusing all overtures.
Chas. Morris Addison.
A JEALOUS DOG.
[Jan. 12, 1895.]
I was greatly interested in the story of the generosity shown by a dog, as related in the Spectator of January 5th, because of a similar case within my own knowledge, and yet so different, as to prove that the dispositions of animals are as varied as those of human beings. A friend of mine had two fox-terriers, inseparable companions, and both equally devoted to their mistress. On one occasion, when the family had been away from home for some time, and were returning, one of these pets, not being well, was brought back with its mistress, while the other was left to follow with the horses, &c., and did not arrive for three days. On entering the house, the dog had a very sullen appearance, took no notice of any one, but searched everywhere till he found his companion; then flew at his throat, and would have killed him but for timely succour! Could any human being have indulged in a more rankling jealousy?
E. A. K.
A DOG THAT SCORNED TO BE JEALOUS.
[Jan. 5, 1895.]