OUR EVERSLEY DOGS—DANDY, SWEEP, VICTOR.

the gift of speech, the only human attribute that was
denied him. He was immensely strong; and though
perfectly sweet-tempered to every human being who
did no evil, he soon developed a taste for fighting
other dogs which, I am ashamed to say, was a great
source of delight to us naughty children. For if in
our walks we met a strange dog that looked as if it
would like to make a meal upon us, Dandy was bris-
tling all over in a minute. Then the big dog—for
Dandy would never notice dogs smaller than him-
self—would take a turn round the low yellow dog,
growling with contempt. Then came a sudden snarl —
a flash of white teeth, and the big bully was lying
in the dust, while Dandy, unhurt, stood calmly survey-
ing his prostrate foe who had been seized by the leg
and rolled over just when he expected to make an
easy end of our precious defender.

One day I remember a little carter-boy coming
down to the Rectory in some excitement:

“ Oh, please ’um, you’d better go up on Brick Hill,
that there dog of yourn’s been a fightin’, and ’eve
got two dogs down and he standin’ on ’em.”

And sure enough there stood Dandy, bristling and
triumphant, with his fore feet planted on a huge
sheep dog and a greyhound belonging to a neighbor-
ing farmer, who lay not daring to move head or tail.
How he managed it we never could tell, for each of
his adversaties was twice as big as he was: but any
dog having once felt Dandy’s teeth was sure to sub-
mit to his rule for the rest of his life.

No children are perfect; and so Dandy’s early
days could not be expected to pass without some
youthful misdemeanors. The most serious of these,
and one which he bitterly repented for many years to
come, occurred on a Sunday. We were all away from
home, so a strange clergyman was engaged to come
over to Eversley for the day to do the duty, and a
nice beefsteak had been prepared for his dinner
between services. But when the cook went to the
larder to get her beefsteak and dress it, it was no-
where to be found. Then she bethought her of
Dandy, who had come in a little while before with his
nose and paws covered with earth, as if he had been
burying some treasure. Search was made, Dandy
was watched, and at length he was tracked to a hiding-
place in the garden, and there were the melancholy,
earthy, half-eaten remains of the poor clergyman’s
Dandy was beaten for about the first and
but he was also scolded, and
For years

dinner.
last time in his life:
that hurt him far more than any beating.

175

after one had only to say, “ Dandy, who stole the
beefsteaks? ” and his tail would go between his legs,
his brown eyes fill with tears, and he would slink
away with a look of the most bitter remorse and
abject misery.

When Dandy had been with us for a year or two,
we were obliged, on account of my mother’s health, to
leave Eversley for a couple of years, and go to the
milder climate of Devonshire. Our first point was
Torquay ; and here we children first learnt the delight
of life on the seashore. Our whole time was spent
in searching the rocks of Livermead for rare sea-
beasts, and the sands of Paignton for shells and
sea weeds, which we brought home and kept alive in
large glass vivariums. Dandy was our constant com-
panion; and while we with our father were hunting
for the lovely living flowers of the rock pools, Dandy
was enjoying himself quite as much hunting for rab-
bits along the cliffs and sand hills. One day we had

 

CHARLES KINGSLEY.

been on Paignton Sands, and came home laden with
a precious prize—the great “ red-legged cockle,”
that strange mollusk that at certain times appears in
vast quantities in Torquay, and is not found anywhere
else till you get down at the coasts of the Mediterra-
nean. Dandy, however, did not come home with us;
but we took little thought of his absence, feeling sure
he was busily engaged in some rabbit-hole, and would