DOGS watch for us faithfully they love and

worship their masters: they hate strangers: their power of tracking by scent is extraordinary: great is their keenness in the chase-what can all this mean but that they were made for man's advantage?

Cicero, translated by F. T. Richards.

Dogs Race for Glory

(From De Sollertia Animalium)

OGS which hunt hares, if they kill them

DOGS

themselves, are delighted to tear the animal and swallow the blood; but if the hare gives out, as often happens, spends all his breath in running,

and dies, they will not touch the body at all, but

they stand wagging their tails, showing that they race for glory, not meat.

The Dog as Avenger

HEN Calvus the Roman was killed in the

WHEN

civil wars, no one was able to cut off his

King

head until the murderers formed a ring and stabbed his dog, which showed fight for his body. Pyrrhus, again, on a journey, fell in with a dog watching the body of a slain man, and, when he heard that it had stayed there two days without food and would not leave the body, he ordered his men to bury the body and bring the dog carefully away. A few days later he held a review, and the troops marched past the king, who had the dog with him, quite quiet. But when the dog saw the murderers of his master pass, he sprang out furiously against them, and barked at them several times, turning round to Pyrrhus, so that not only the king but all the bystanders looked on the men with suspicion. So they were arrested at once and examined, and, there being some little corroborative evidence, they confessed the murder and suffered for it. . . A man once broke into

the temple of Esculapius at Athens, took whatever was portable of the gold and silver offerings, and, thinking himself unobserved, sneaked away. But the watchdog, Capparus, when none of the temple-keepers took notice of his barking, pursued the burglar in his flight. First, the man pelted him with stones, but he would not give up. When day came, he kept at a little distance, but followed with his eye on the man, and, when the latter threw him food, would not touch it. When the thief lay down, he spent the night by him; when he walked again, he got up and kept following. He fawned on any wayfarers he met, but kept barking at the thief. When the authorities, who were in pursuit, heard of this from the people who met them, and who described the colour and size of the dog, they pursued with yet more zeal, caught the man, and brought him back from Crommyon. The dog turned round and led the way, proud and delighted, evidently claiming that he had caught the temple-thief. So the people voted that he should be fed at the public expense and instructed the priests to take care of him. . . . The following incident I saw myself at Rome. There was a dog taking part in a play which had many characters and a complicated plot. He went through many bits of acting suitable to the supposed emotions and situations; and in particular, when the other characters tried upon him a drug which was a