His head is about as big as a graham gem, and runs down to a point no
bigger than a cambric needle, while his ears are about as big as a thumb
to a glove, and they hang down as though the dog didn't want to hear
anything. How a head of that kind can contain brains enough to cause a dog
to know enough to go in when it rains is a mystery. But he seems to be
intelligent.

If a man comes along on the sidewalk, the dog will follow him off, follow
him until he meets another man, and then he follows _him_ till he
meets another, and so on until he has followed the entire population. He
is not an aristocratic dog, but will follow one person just as soon as
another, and to see him going along the street, with his tail coiled up,
apparently oblivious to every human sentiment, it is touching.

His legs are about the size of pipe stems, and his feet are as big as a
base ball base. He wanders around, following a boy, then a middle aged
man, then a little girl, then an old man, and finally, about meal time,
the last person he follows seems to go by the barn and the dog wanders in
and looks for a buffalo robe or a harness tug to chew. It does not cost
anything to keep him, as he has only eaten one trotting harness and one
fox skin robe since Monday, though it may not be right to judge of his
appetite, as he may be a little off his feed.

Pierce said he would be a nice dog to run with a horse, or under a
carriage. Why, bless you, he won't go within twenty feet of a horse, and a
horse would run away to look at him; besides, he gets right under a
carriage wheel, and when the wheel runs over him he complains, and sings
Pinafore.

What under the sun that dog is ever going to be good for is more than we