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288 wife, who moreover ventures to joke on the certainty of my punctuality on the 31st of August, however uncertain may be my return from an excursion at any other time of the year.

This year there was not the usual jesting and quizzing when I appeared at my gate on my return from Scotland. The grouse I brought did not excite much attention, except from little Harry, who was at once absorbed in stroking the feathers and hugging the birds. The girls were grave, and Bell would not look at me. My wife hastily whispered: “Take no notice of Bell’s crying; I will tell you presently.” As we entered the house the servants appeared, all grave and sad. Little Harry was sure to be the first to tell when the first admiration of the grouse was over. He thrust himself between my knees to inform me, “There was a bad dog, and Mopsy is so ill.” Off went poor Bell with a sob. Mopsy was her dog.

“A bad dog!” said I. “Does he mean a mad dog?”

Yes; there had been a strange dog the week before, running along the road in the heat in a very odd way, and it had bitten Mopsy in the leg, to Bell’s intense indignation. She drove the stranger away with stones, and carried home and nursed her dog with all devotedness. Mopsy seemed to be quite well till last night, when she was restless and tremulous. The groom, not liking her appearance, had traced out the strange dog, and found that it was so far suspected as to have been destroyed in the next village. Hurrying back with the news, the groom found that Mopsy was now shut up in the washhouse. She had snapped at her mistress, luckily fastening on Bell’s dress only. The man declared the poor thing must have a chance. He could undertake, with a little help, to administer a dose of medicine he had brought with him. He did it safely enough, placed food and water on the ground for the chance of its being desired, locked the door, and put the key in his pocket. From time to time one or another looked through the window, to see how Mopsy went on. In a little while the girls could not bear the sight of the poor creature incessantly leaping up against the wall, while the saliva streamed from her jaws, and she made the most dreadful noises. In a few hours she was lying on her side, panting and quivering. Before my wife and I went up to the Hall to dinner, we had advised Bell to inquire no more for her dog; and before we returned at night it was, in fact, dead. It was rather a shock to us all. We had never before come so near the horrors of hydrophobia; and we could not but feel how helpless we were in our ignorance of the meaning of that dreadful infliction, and of how to preclude or manage it. Of course, the physician and surgeon of the neighbourhood were of the Hall party, and of course every body present told all he had ever heard about mad dogs; but we learned nothing new. We could only conclude that all owners of dogs should be careful, during the hot weather, to see that their dogs were properly fed and