“You promised, cousin Ida, to read about the Stockholm dog.”

“I will, Minnie; but uncle George has something to tell you.”

“Read it now, Ida,” said Mr. Lee, “and I will relate my stories afterward.”

“A captain of an English merchant vessel arrived in the port of Stockholm, in Sweden, and was soon afterward seized with an illness, of which he died. At the time of his death, he had on board a fine, large Newfoundland dog, which was fondly attached to him. On the day of the captain’s funeral, Neptune was allowed to follow his poor master to the grave; and, after the funeral ceremony had been performed, the officers and crew made every exertion to induce the dog to follow them to the ship, but all in vain; and their endeavors to catch him proving fruitless, they left him in the churchyard.

“During the short time the ship remained in port, Neptune might be seen at all times lying with his head on the grave, and every day the sailors brought him his food; but he was so vigilant on these occasions that they never could get near him, to take him back to the ship, and they were obliged to sail without him.

“The neighboring Swedish inhabitants, in admiration of the extraordinary attachment displayed by this animal to his late master, made arrangements among themselves to supply him with his daily food; and, as the weather soon became extremely cold, a subscription was made, to build him a comfortable doghouse, which was placed near the grave.

“It was affecting to see how earnestly Neptune gazed into every new-made grave, proving that he cherished the hope of seeing his beloved master again.

“He remained on the grave for several years, and came to be called the dog of Stockholm, when, one day, he was found dead at his post.”

“I love Neptune,” faltered Minnie, wiping her eyes. “I wish I could have seen him there. But, father, what did you say you had to tell me?”

“I found two remarkable stories of the exhibition of dogs, which I thought would interest you; and so I took the pains to borrow the book for your benefit.

“The first was an account of two pointers, Braque and Philax, exhibited in London by Mr. Leonard, a French gentleman of great wealth, who had instructed his dogs for his own amusement. He was earnest in stating that it only required gentle, persevering effort to teach them almost any thing.

“The dogs were in vigorous health, and having bowed gracefully to the company, seated themselves on the hearth rug, side by side. Mr. Leonard spoke to his dogs in French, in his usual low tone, and ordered one of them to walk, the other to lie down, to run, to gallop, to halt, to crouch, all of which they did as promptly and correctly as the most docile children.

“He then placed six cards, of different colors, on the floor, and, sitting with his back to the dogs, directed one to pick up the blue card and the other the white, varying his orders rapidly, and speaking in such a manner that it was impossible they could have executed his commands if they had not a perfect knowledge of his words.

“For instance, he said, ‘Philax, take the blue card, and give it to Braque; and, Braque, take the red card and give it to Philax;’ and these orders were instantly executed.

“Pieces of bread and meat were placed on the floor, when Philax was ordered to bring a piece of meat and give it to Braque, and then Braque was ordered to give it back to Philax, who was to return it to its place. Braque was then ordered to bring a piece of meat and eat it; but before he had time to swallow it, he was forbidden to do so, and instantly pushed it through his teeth, to show that he obeyed.

“After this, Mr. Leonard invited any gentleman to play a game of dominos with Braque. The dog seated himself at the table, and his antagonist opposite him. Six dominos were given to the dog, and six more to the gentleman. Braque, having the double number, took it in his mouth, and put it in the middle of the table, when the gentleman put down a corresponding piece.

“Braque instantly placed another correctly, when the gentleman intentionally placed a wrong number.

“The dog stared, growled, and at last barked angrily. Finding no notice was taken of his remonstrances, he pushed away the wrong domino with his nose, picked a suitable one from his own pieces, and put it instead, when they went on, and Braque won the game.”

“O, father, I mean to teach Tiney to play with me.”“But here is a wonderful story about dogs.”

“About fifty years ago, a Frenchman brought to London from eighty to a hundred dogs, chiefly poodles, all nearly the same size, and of the smaller kind. On the education of these animals their proprietor had bestowed a great deal of pains.

“From puppyhood upwards they had been taught to walk on their hind legs, and maintained their footing with surprising ease in that unnatural position.

“Among other performances was the representation of a siege. On the rising of a curtain, there appeared three ranges of ramparts, one above the other. In the centre of the fortress arose a tower, on which a flag was flying. The ramparts were guarded by soldiers in uniform, each armed with a musket or sword of an appropriate size. All these were dogs, and their duty was to defend the walls from an attacking party, whose movements now commenced the operations of the siege.

“After some skirmishing, in which the chief, habited as an officer of rank, was conspicuous, the drums beat to arms, and the battle commenced in earnest. The chief of the assailants did wonders. He was seen, now here, now there, animating his men, and seeming to receive an accession of courage on every fresh repulse.

“The rattle of the miniature cannon, the roll of the drums, the sound of trumpets, and the heroism of the actors on both sides, imparted an idea of reality to the scene. After numerous hair-breadth escapes, the enemy’s standard was hurled down, and the British flag hoisted in its place; the ramparts were manned by the conquerors, and the smoke cleared away to the tune of ‘God save the King.’

“But a still more wonderful scene was an assembly room, on the sides and the farther end of which seats were placed; while a music gallery and a profusion of chandeliers gave a richness and truth to the general effect. Liveried servants were in attendance on a few of the dog company who entered.“Frequent knockings were now heard at the door, followed by the entrance of parties attired in the fashion of the period. These were the same dogs who had recently been engaged in the battle; but now all was peace, elegance, and ease. Different parties of dogs were introduced to each other with an appearance of the greatest decorum. The dogs representing ladies were dressed in silks, gauzes, laces, and gay ribbons, and adorned with artificial flowers, with flowing ringlets, with powdered and pomatumed headdresses, with caps and lappets, in ludicrous contrast to their natural features. The dogs representing gentlemen were equipped, some as youthful, and others as aged beaux.

“The frequent bow and responsive courtesy produced great mirth in the audience. Suddenly, the master of ceremonies appeared. He wore a court dress, and his manners were in agreement with his costume. To some of the dog-gentlemen, he gave merely a look of recognition; to the ladies he was attentive; to some he offered his paw familiarly, to others he bowed with respect, and introduced one to another with an elegance that surprised the spectators.“The music was soon interrupted by a loud knocking, which announced the arrival of some important visitor. Several liveried servants entered, and then a sedan chair was borne in by appropriately dressed dogs. They removed the poles, raised the head, and opened the door of the sedan, when forth came a dog-lady splendidly attired in satin, decorated with jewels and a plume of ostrich feathers! She made a great impression, and appeared conscious of her superior charms, returning the bow of the master of ceremonies with a courtesy.

“The band now struck up an air appropriate for the promenade; and the company instantly quitted their seats, and began to walk in pairs around the room.

“On seats being resumed, the master of ceremonies and the sedan chair lady arose: he led her to the centre of the room, Foote’s minuet struck up, when the pair commenced the movements with an attention to time. They performed the crossings and turnings, the advancings and retreatings, and obeisances, during which there was a perfect silence; and they concluded the whole amid thunders of applause.”