Here you see the gipsy men and women, sitting and standing around a
fire, over which is a pot, evidently containing the material for their
meal. If you notice the picture carefully, you will observe, also, a
little, insignificant looking dog, who is apparently asleep, and, for
aught I know, dreaming about the exploits of the day. You will no doubt
smile, and wonder what exploits such a cur is able to perform; but I
assure you that if he is at all like some of the gipsy dogs I have heard
of, he has been taught a good many very shrewd tricks. The dogs of the
gipsies are sometimes trained to steal for their masters. The thief
enters a store with some respectably dressed man, whom the owner of the
dog will commission for the purpose, and--the man having made certain
signals to the animal--the gipsy cur, after loitering about the store,
perhaps for hours, waiting a favorable opportunity, will steal the
articles which were designated, and run away with them to his master's
tent.

I made the acquaintance of a dog at Niagara Falls, last summer, who was
an ardent admirer of the beautiful and grand in nature. The little
steamer called the "Maid of the Mist" makes several trips daily, from a
point some two miles down the river, to within a few rods of the Canada
Fall. I went up in this boat, one morning, and the trip afforded me one
of the finest views I had of this inimitable cataract. Among the
passengers in this boat, at the time, was the dog who was so fond of the
sublime. He walked leisurely on board, just before the hour of starting,
and during the entire excursion seemed to enjoy the scene as much as any
of the rest of the passengers. As the boat approached the American
Fall, he took his station in the bow, where he remained, completely
deluged in the spray, until the boat passed the same Fall, on its
return. This, however, is not the most remarkable part of the story. The
captain informed me that such was the daily practice of the dog. Every