I want to tell the readers of "The Nursery" about my dog. My mamma bought him for me when he was very young. He is a Newfoundland dog, and is very large. He is black, with a white face and neck. His name is Jack.

Jack is very useful in keeping tramps out of our orchard, and is also very kind and playful. I do not like to play with him; for he is so rough, that he sometimes tumbles me over, and hurts me: but I have a good time with him in other ways.

He draws me about in a little cart into which I harness him. He minds a pull on the reins, and will go just as I wish him to. But he will insist on chasing pigs whenever he sees them. He does not like pigs.

One day, when I was harnessing him, he spied a pig, and away he ran after it—cart and all. He broke one wheel of the cart, and came back panting and wagging his tail, as if he had done something good; but I scolded him well.

Jack will sit on his hind-legs, and catch bits of bread or cake in his mouth when I throw them to him. One summer, we went to the seashore, and took him with us. He is a splendid swimmer; and when we took a stick, and threw it into the water, he would plunge through the waves, and bring it back in his mouth.

Sometimes an old fisherman took me out sailing, and as there was not room in the boat for Jack, the good old dog would lie on the wharf and wait patiently till I came back. When he saw the boat coming in, he would jump up and bark in great delight; and one day he leaped into the water, and swam out to meet us.

Once my cousin and I were sitting in a cleft in the rocks, gathering shells and pebbles, when a great black creature jumped right over our heads. We were much frightened, but soon found that it was only our good friend Jack. He had seen us from the top of the rock, and had jumped down full fifteen feet to get to us.