174

OUR EVERSLEY DOGS—DANDY, SWEEP, VICTOR.

OUR EVERSLEY DOGS—DANDY, SWSEP, VICTOR.

By Rose KINGSLEY.

e: rN NCE upon
a time
when I
was a lit-
tle girl I
remem-
: ber sit-
2 ting beside my
Sf father upon the box

U ofa travelling carri-
age, on our way home
from a happy visit by
the banks of the beau-
tiful Thames. The
horses trotted stead-
ily onwards. The postil-

  
   
  
 

down to the cadence of their measured
steps; mile after mile of black fir-trees
7 rising out of beds of purple heather, slip-
ped behind us, and between our feet, se-
cured by a strong chain, lay a long-backed, short-
legged, wiry-haired yellow puppy.
That was Dandy. oF 2
Presently the fir-trees and sandy heaths melted
into ploughed fields and hedgerows. We came to the
crest of a long hill, and below us, between wide-
stretching, heather-clad moors known as Finchamp-
stead Ridges and Hartfordbridge Flats, lay a sunny
green vale. Down into the vale we trotted, through
‘copses full of nightingales; over the little Blackwater
River, where otters barked in the crumbling banks,
and kingfishers darted out—a flash of sapphire and
emerald —from some sheltering alder; past the
smooth-shaven village green where men and boys
were playing cricket after their days’ work; past
thatched cottages, each with its garden bright with
flowers; past bits of common where the cottagers fed
their geese, and their donkeys browsed on the
prickly golden-flowered gorse; up the church lane
from whose banks in spring we children filled our
hands with sweet-scented white violets that hid their

JB and light-blue jacket, bobbed up and
Lo

lion in his black velvet cap_

modest heads among the grass beneath the tall elm-
trees. Then we came to a farmhouse with its barns
and rick yards; and beyond it we saw a square red

- brick church tower, and beyond the church tower lay

a low old: bay-windowed red brick house covered with
roses and creepers and guarded by three huge Scotch -
fir-trees rising from the green lawn —and we were
at home: for this was Eversley Rectory, and here
Dandy was to live.

But before I introduce you to Dandy himself, I
must tell you a little about his family history; for he
was no common cur, picked up out of the streets, and
he must be treated with proper respect, as befits a
dog of ancient pedigree.

He was one of that renowned breed of terriers that
Sir Walter Scott made famous in “ Guy Mannering,”
of “auld Pepper and auld Mustard, and young Pep-
per and young Mustard, and little Pepper and little
Mustard,” who, as their gallant old owner said, “fear
naething that ever cam’ wi’ a hairy skin on’t.” The
first Dandie Dinmont terriers belonged to Mr. James
Davidson, of Hindlee, on the edge of the Teviotdale
Mountains, and their master was the original of the
delicious character of the brave old border farmer,
Dandie Dinmont of Charlie’s-hope. From these
fearless ancestors sprang a long line of fearless de-
scendants. They are something like a skye terrier,
but heavier and stronger, with shorter hair; and in
color are either ‘“ pepper,” a bluish-gray, or “ mus-
tard,” or reddish-brown. They are noted for courage,
sagacity, strength and faithfulness; and among all
that famous family never was there a wiser, a better,
or a finer dog than our dear friend Dandy; for a
friend he soon became. We loved him as one of
the family, and he rejoiced in our joys and grieved
and sympathized in our sorrows.

In a few months after his arrival Dandy had grown
to his full size. He was a long, low dog, with very
short, strong, croo¢rd legs, big paws that turned out
like a turnspits’) a »road head with plenty of room

‘for his brain, powe.ful jaws and teeth, soft drooping

ears, and tender, steadfast brown eyes which expressed
every thought in his heart as plainly as if he had had