KINDLY COMMUNICATED BY OUR DOG "TOBY."
DEAR SIR,--I was a-sitting the other evening at the door of my kennel,
thinking of the dog-days and smoking my pipe (blessings on you, master,
for teaching me that art!), when one of your prospectuses was put into my
paw by a spaniel that lives as pet-dog in a nobleman's family. Lawk, sir!
what misfortunes can have befallen you, that you are obleeged to turn
author?
I remember the poor devil as used to supply us with _dialect_--what a
face he had! It was like a mouth-organ turned edgeways; and he looked as
hollow as the big drum, but warn't half so round and noisy. You can't have
dwindled down to that, sure_ly_! I couldn't bear to see your hump and
_pars pendula_ (that's dog Latin) shrunk up like dried almonds, and
titivated out in msty-fusty toggery--I'm sure I couldn't! The very thought
of it is like a pound weight at the end of my tail.
I whined like any thing, calling to my missus--for you must know that I've
married as handsome a Scotch terrier as you ever see. "Vixen," says I,
"here's the poor old governor up at last--I knew that Police Act would
drive him to something desperate.
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