thought, a Turkish street dog, with whom she was soon on the best of
terms. Introducing her pet to a gentleman who knew a dog when he saw
one, he exclaimed: 'That's no dog; it is a common brute of a wild
jackal!' 'Well,' rejoined the enlightened lady, 'anyhow, I have tamed
him, and dog or jackal, don't mean to part with him!'
It was to her husband that Mr Frank Buckland was indebted for the
Kurdish dog, whose prowess delighted him, despite the trouble entailed
by its exhibition; for Arslan, imbued with the notion that he was
created to rid the earth of his kind, conscientiously tried to fulfil
his mission by killing every dog so unlucky as to cross his path.
Fortunately for his master's serenity, Arslan's unkind attentions
were confined to his own species; otherwise there would have been
anything but joy in the house of Buckland, since that general lover
of animal-kind was never yet without pet bears, beavers, or monkeys,
calculated to excite the ire of a brave dog; and priding himself upon
the brown rats, black rats, piebald rats, and white rats with pink
eyes, which swarmed to the door of their cage to welcome his coming,
and allowed him to handle them as he listed, while at the advent of a
stranger they were up on their hind-legs in fighting position instanter.
Much, however, as he loved them, they increased and multiplied so
quickly that Mr Buckland was by cruel necessity compelled, now and
again, to carry a bagful away wherewith to regale the snakes of
the Zoological Gardens; a method of riddance unavailable to the
gentleman who tried his hand at porcupine-petting, and found the
creature thoroughly deserved Shakspeare's epithet of 'fretful,' its
inquisitiveness and restlessness rendering it the most unpleasant of
all quadrupedal pets.
Strange pets usually come to some untimely end; as Miller Luke says,
'Things out o' natur never thrive.' But your animal lover need not
go far afield for worthy objects upon which to expend his kind care,
for he was a wise man who wrote, 'If we were to pet our useful and
hard-working animals, we should find it both to our credit and
advantage.'
THE LEAF PROPHETIC.
_This year--Next year--Some time--Never._
How I laughed at some one's folly,
As in play he read my fortune,
On a leaf of shining holly.
'NEXT YEAR!' said the leaf prophetic;
'Next year,' softly whispered some one,
While I said, with voice coquettish:
'I shall wed next year with no one.
'Christmas comes, and Christmas goeth;
You shall see--for I have said it--
When the next year's Christmas cometh,
It shall find me still unwedded.'
. . . . .
But the Spring-time came with blossoms,
Left a bud so sweetly hidden,
Which the perfumed breath of Summer
Fanned into a flower unbidden.
And when Autumn's golden glory
Gleamed o'er fields and purple heather,
Then our love reached its fulfilment
When two hands were clasped together.
And the frosts and snows of Winter
Brought us not one thought of sadness,
For the outer desolation
Made more bright the inner gladness.
Christmas came! and some one fastened
In my hair a leaflet golden:
'Wear this as a penance, darling,
For the sake of memories olden.'
H. K. W.
* * * * *
Printed and Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, 47 Paternoster Row, LONDON,
and 339 High Street, EDINBURGH.