the mouth of a large, hungry dog, trying to get a piece of bread out
of it, and the dog not resenting the liberty at all, but merely
trying to retain his share of the bread, and allowing the child to
take a part.

We all know that dogs have chosen to die upon the graves of their
masters, refusing food even when it was brought to them. We look at
such animals as if we saw in them an angel in prison. We feel as if
such a nature could not die.

There is no doubt that dogs understand language. My friend, Mr. S.
P. Miles, who was remarkable for his tender love for animals, as
well as for many other noble and lovely qualities, told me some
remarkable facts which came under his own personal observation, and
which I am, therefore, sure are true, showing that intelligent dogs
understand language.

He said that in his father's house was an old dog, to whom they were
much attached, who however became liable to fits. The dog was very
fond of hunting, and the moment he saw any one take the gun, to go
into the woods, he would show his ecstasy by leaping about.

Mr. Miles's mother one day, when caressing the dog and lamenting
that he was subject to these fits, told her son that he had better
shoot him the next time that he went out hunting with him. A few
days after, Mr. Miles went hunting; but the moment he reached up for
his gun, which was laid up on hooks in the wall, the dog, instead of
showing joy by jumping about, ran directly to the good lady who had
condemned him to death, got under the table at which she was
sitting, looked up in her face, and would not move from that place.