Faithful as dogs are in general, I am sorry to have to record an
instance to the contrary.
A watch-dog, whose special duty was to remain at his post during the
night, found that his collar was sufficiently loose to allow him to
withdraw his head from it whenever he pleased. He acted as some human
beings do whose right principles do not fit tightly to their necks--
slipping out of them at the very time they ought to keep them on. The
dog was, however, sagacious enough to know that if he did so during the
day he would be seen by his master, when to a certainty the collar would
be tightened. But no sooner did night arrive, and the lights began to
disappear from the windows, than he used to slip his head out of his
collar, and roam about the neighbouring fields, sometimes picking up a
hare or rabbit for his supper.
Knowing also that the blood on his mouth would betray him, he would,
after his banquet, go to a stream and wash it off. This done, he would
return before daybreak to his kennel, and slipping his head into his
collar, lie down in his bed, as though he had remained there on the
watch all the night.
Now I must beg my young readers to remember, should they be tempted to
do what is wrong, that however well-behaved they may contrive to appear
before their friends and acquaintances, in their own mind there will
always be the unpleasant feeling arising from the consciousness of doing
a guilty action.