Part 2 (1/2)

In ill.u.s.tration of the anecdotal letters about dogs and their habits, in the _Spectator_ of February 2nd, and Mr. Lang's paper in this month's _Nineteenth Century_, I send you the following story of a dog which I had in 1851 and for three years afterwards. He was a handsome Newfoundland dog, and one of the most intelligent animals with which it was ever my good luck to meet. I was living in a village about three miles from Dover, where I did all my shopping and marketing, being generally my own ”carrier.” Sometimes Nep would carry home a small parcel for me, and always most carefully. On one occasion Nep was with me when I chose a spade, and asked the ironmonger to send it by the village carrier. The spade was put by, labelled and duly addressed. I went on to have a bathe, my dog going with me, but on finis.h.i.+ng my toilet in the machine, and calling and whistling for Nep, he was nowhere to be seen. He was not to be found at the stable where I had left my horse, but on calling at the ironmonger's shop I found he had been there and had carried off the spade which I had bought, balancing it carefully in his mouth. When I reached home, there Nep was, lying near his kennel in the stable-yard looking very f.a.gged, but wearing a countenance of the fullest self-satisfaction, and evidently wis.h.i.+ng me to think he had fulfilled his ”dog-duty.” My friend Mr. Wood, who was a thorough lover and admirer of dogs, was delighted to hear of his intelligent performance.

”CANOPHILIST.”

P.S.--I may add Nep always guarded me when bathing, and always went into the water with me, too, often uttering a peculiar kind of ”howl.”

_THE REASONING POWERS OF DOGS._

PURCHASING DOGS.

[_May 26, 1877._]

Some time ago I sent you my recollections of a dog who knew a halfpenny from a penny, and who could count up as far as two (see page 56). I have been able to obtain authentic information of a dog whose mental powers were still more advanced, and who, in his day, besides being celebrated for his abilities, was of substantial benefit to a charitable inst.i.tution in his town. The dog I refer to was a little white fox-terrier, Prin by name, who lived at the Lion Hotel, at Kidderminster, for three or four years; but now, alas! he is dead, and nothing remains of him but his head in a gla.s.s case.

I had heard of this dog some months ago, but on Sat.u.r.day last, having to make a visit to Kidderminster, I went to see him. The facts I give about him are based on the statements of Mr. Lloyd, his master, and they are fully substantiated by the evidence of many others. I have before me a statement of the proceeds of ”Dog Prin's box, Lion Hotel; subscriptions to the Infirmary.” The contributions began in September, 1874, and ended on April 25th, 1876, and during that period the sum of 13 14s. 6d. was contributed through Prin's instrumentality.

He began by displaying a fancy for playing with coins, not unusual amongst terriers, and he advanced to a discovery that he could exchange the coins for biscuits. He learnt that for a halfpenny he could get two biscuits, and for a penny, three; and, having become able to distinguish between the two coins, it was found impossible to cheat him. If he had contributed a penny, he would not leave the bar till he had had his third biscuit; and if there was n.o.body to attend to his wants, he kept the coin in his mouth till he could be served. Indeed, it was this persistence which ultimately caused poor Prin's death, for there is every reason to fear that he fell a victim to copper-poisoning.

By a little training he was taught to place the coins, after he had got the biscuits, upon the top of a small box fixed on the wall, and they were dropped for him through a slot. He never objected to part with them in this way, and having received the _quid pro quo_, he gave complete evidence of his appreciation of the honourable understanding which is so absolutely necessary for all commercial transactions.

An authenticated case like this is of extreme value, for just as the elementary stages of any science or discovery are the most difficult and the slowest in accomplishment, so are the primary stages of all mental processes. To find the preliminary steps of the evolution of mathematics and commerce in a dog is therefore a very important observation, and everything bearing on these early phases of intellect should be carefully recorded.

LAWSON TAIT.

[_Feb. 10, 1877._]

The _Spectator_ is always so kind to animals that I venture to send you the following story of a dog's sagacity, which may be depended upon as absolutely true:--

During the meeting of the British a.s.sociation at Glasgow, a friend of mine had occasion to go one day from that place to Greenock on business.

Hearing, on his arrival, that the person he wished to see was out, but expected shortly to return home, he determined to take a stroll about the town, to which he was a stranger. In the course of his walk he turned into a baker's shop and bought a bun. As he stood at the door of the shop eating his bun, a large dog came up to him and begged for a share, which he got, and seemed to enjoy, coming back for piece after piece. ”Does the dog belong to you?” my friend asked of the shop-woman.

”No,” she answered, ”but he spends most of his time here, and begs halfpennies from the people who pa.s.s.” ”Halfpennies! What good can they be to him?” ”Oh, he knows very well what to do with them; he comes into the shop and buys cakes.”

This seemed rather a remarkable instance of cleverness even for the cleverest of animals, so, by way of testing its reality, my friend went out of the shop into the street, where he was immediately accosted by the dog, who begged for _something_ with all the eloquence of which a dog is capable. He offered him a halfpenny, and was rather surprised to see him accept it readily, and walk, with the air of a regular customer, into the shop, where he put his forepaws on the counter, and held out the halfpenny towards the attendant. The young woman produced a bun, but that did not suit the dog, and he held his money fast. ”Ah,” she said, ”I know what he wants,” and took down from a shelf a plate of shortbread. This was right; the dog paid his halfpenny, took his shortbread, and ate it with decorous satisfaction. When he had quite finished he left the shop, and my friend, much amused, followed him, and when he again begged found another halfpenny for him, and saw the whole process gone through a second time.

This dog clearly had learned by some means the use of money, and not merely that it would buy something to eat, but that it would buy several things, among which he could exercise a right of choice. What is perhaps most remarkable is that his proceedings were entirely independent, and for his own benefit, not that of any teacher or master.

A. L. W.

[_Feb. 17, 1877._]

When a student at Edinburgh, I enjoyed the friends.h.i.+p of a brown retriever, who belonged to a fishmonger in Lothion Street, and who was certainly the cleverest dog I have ever met with. He was a cleverer dog than the one described by ”A. L. W.” because he knew the relative value of certain coins. In the morning he was generally to be seen seated on the step of the fishmonger's shop-door, waiting for some of his many friends to give him a copper. When he had got one, he trotted away to a baker's shop a few doors off, and dropped the coin on the counter. If I remember rightly (it is twelve or fifteen years ago), his weakness was ”soda scones.” If he dropped a halfpenny on the counter he was contented with one scone, but if he had given a penny he expected two, and would wait for the second, after he had eaten the first, until he got it. That he knew exactly when he was ent.i.tled to one scone only, and when he ought to get two, is certain, for I tried him often.

LAWSON TAIT.

[_Feb. 17, 1877._]