"When I was quite a young lad, about fourteen years old, my father lived on an old farm up at Poughkeepsie. One day I went to town to see the circus, and while there I saw for the first time one of those spotted coach dogs. I bargained for it with the owner, and trotted home happy with my new possession. When my father saw it his good old Puritan face fell, and he said, sadly,
"'Why, Chauncey, we don't want any spotted dog on the farm! It would drive the cattle crazy.'
"I succeeded in obtaining permission to keep him, however. The next day it was raining, and I took the dog out in the woods to try him on a coon. The rain was too much for the spots, and when we returned home they had disappeared. I hastened to town and hunted up the man who sold him to me.
"'Look at the dog,' said I; 'his spots have all washed off.'
"'Great guns, boy!' exclaimed the dealer, 'there was an umbrella went with that dog. Didn't you get an umbrella?'"
The Emperor of Germany is a man of versatile accomplishments, and rarely rests any length of time without appearing in some new rôle. Recently he was entertained at dinner by his officers of the cuirassiers, and enjoyed himself thoroughly—so much so that he prolonged his stay over six hours. As the time went by he entered into conversation with the bandmaster on the subject of historical marches. With a quick impetuous movement, the Emperor jumped to his feet, and summoning the musicians of the band, seized the baton and conducted the Hohenfriedberg March by Frederick the Great. As his baton fell on the final note, and the music ceased, he turned, and in an enthusiastic manner cried out:
"Ah, it is fine like that! I'll have it like that throughout my army."
It is to be wondered if the Emperor proposes to wander about his country rehearsing the bands of his army to suit his musical tastes.