The Argosy — page 298: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

284 About Dogs. and then all at once spring up to attack the legs of a tramp. He trots along, looking as demure as a beadle, but suddenly darts off after arabbit. Yet with all this he has in him plenty of true, warm feeling. Indeed, we never knew a dog that had not—if he was well treated, Once, when his mistress went away, he would eat nothing for some days. One of James’s most marked peculiarities is his love for cats, whose society he prefers to that of his own dog relations. When his pussy friend is engaged with family cares, he never forgets to go every morning and]put his head into the large box, which serves as her nursery, to ask how the babies do. As they grow older, the kittens sit with their paws around his neck, and play with his ears and tail : all of which familiarities he takes with evident pleasure. He is never more delighted than when one of his little companions shares with him his basket, nestling cosily between his front paws. A very different dog from James, though also of the more solemn order of canine natures, was Sylph. Alas! that we must say “ was” ; our old favourite has passed away from among us. Her broad chest, her dignified way of trotting about, her high forehead, all told at once something of her character. Even from a pup, Sylph had a touch of the dowager about her. She could never endure to be laughed at ; and any liberty, such as pulling her tail or twitching the corner of her bed, was received with a low growl, the tone of which had something uncomfortably earnest about it for the fingers of the offender. She was a dog who loved regular order to be kept in everything. She showed by her face that she took it as an insult to herself if the dinner-hour or hour for walking was changed. She was also very self- Opinionated ; and no one could persuade her that what she thought right was wrong. Twenty times she would return to the same forbidden chair, though twenty times she was ejected from it. But with all her whimsical fancies, there never was a dog that more thoroughly felt for and sympathised with her human friends. She would never worry you when you were ill, with noisily-barked invitations to go out. If your face was grave and thoughtful, she would show by a soft touch of her nose or paw that she quite understood you, and would then sit down quietly by you and watch your movements. Once, when her mistress’s eyes were bad, and a bandage was placed over them, she sprang up, and tried with piteous whines to raise her little paws to remove the unwonted disfigurement. Her last days were very sad for us all. Even now we can scarcely recall without a tear the poor little shrunk form creeping to our feet, to beg for the only solace she could now know—one slumber more on the dear familiar lap; the heaving breath and uneasy limbs, and the patient tail, which still would wag at the touch of a caressing hand; the last look of love and intelligence from those gentle eyes, as we stood—a little band of true COMIC OOOKS (CO)