But incomparably beyond all the other sources
of delight, open to the uninitiated, and
hermetically sealed to the "Fancy," was the
contemplation of a certain domestic scene which went
on in the particular corner of the Agricultural
Hall assigned to the Pomeranian family. Father,
mother, and a whole litter of pups, were here
secured together in a sort of pen, or fold, from
which there was no escape. Never was a better
example of a certain kind of unwilling head of
a family, than was furnished by that Pomeranian
father. He was chained to his home, and so
was his excellent consort; but while she lay
contentedly in the midst of her offspring and
completely covered and overwhelmed by the little
wretches who were sprawling all over her, the
sire was found sitting at the very extremest
limits of his chain, and with his head averted
from the group, in a kind of desperate attempt
to ignore the whole concern. It was perfectly
useless for any of the scions of his house to
attempt to attract his attention. To him they
represented doctor's bills, schooling, butcher's
and baker's accounts, and disturbed rest, and
nothing else in the world; and when at last he
raised himself on his hind-legs, and placing his
paws upon the edge of the fold, gazed round
upon the world outside and uttered one long-
drawn melancholy howl, it was the most
perfect satire on undomesticated Paterfamilias that
canine reproof could administer. And the poor
mother, too, left at home with all the pain and
all the trouble and all the labour devolving upon
her, and looking as pleased and contented all
the while as the other looked disgusted! It was
as good as a sermon. Better, perhaps, than
some.

Great monster boar-hound, alone worth a
moderate journey to get a sight of; gigantic
neighbour of the above, with your deep chest, your
pointed nose, and your sable fur; sweet-faced muff
from St. Bernard, whose small intellect is what
might be expected of a race living on the top of
a mountain with only monks for company; small
shadowy-faced Maltese terrier; supple
foxhound; beloved pug; detested greyhound of
Italy; otter-hounds that look like north country
gamekeepers— each and all I bid you farewell,
and proceed yet a little further on my way
through the suburbs of North London.

Curiously enough, within a mile of that great
dog-show at Islington there existed, and exists
still, another dog-show of a very different kind,
and forming as complete a contrast to the first
as can well be imagined. As you enter the
enclosure of this other dog-show, which you
approach by certain small thoroughfares of the
Holloway district, you find yourself in a queer
region, which looks, at first, like a combination
of playground and mews. The playground is
enclosed on three sides by walls, and on the
fourth by a screen of iron cage-work. As soon
as you come within sight of this cage some
twenty or thirty dogs of every conceivable and
inconceivable breed, rush towards the bars,
and, flattening their poor snouts against the
wires, ask in their own peculiar and most forcible
language whether you are their master come at
last to claim them?

For this second dog-show is nothing more nor
less than the show of the Lost Dogs of the
metropolis— the poor vagrant homeless curs that one
sees looking out for a dinner in the gutter, or
curled up in a doorway taking refuge from their
troubles in sleep. To rescue these miserable
animals from slow starvation; to provide an
asylum where, if it is of the slightest use, they
can be restored with food, and kept till a
situation can be found for them; or where the
utterly useless and diseased cur can be in an
instant put out of his misery with a dose of
prussic acid;— to effect these objects, and also
to provide a means of restoring lost dogs to their
owners, a society has actually been formed, and
has worked for some year and a half with very
tolerable success. Their premises are in
Hollingworth-street, St. James's-road, Holloway,
and it is there that the public will find a
permanent dog-show, of a very different sort from that
which " drew" so well at the Agricultural Hall,
Islington.

At the Islington dog-show all was prosperity.
Here, all is adversity. There, the exhibited
animals were highly valued, and had all their
lives been well fed, well housed, carefully watched.
Here, for the most part, the poor things had been
half-starved and houseless, while as to careful
watching, there was plenty of that in one sense,
the vigilant householder having watched most
carefully his entrance gate to keep such intruders
out. At Islington there were dogs estimated by
their owners at hundreds of pounds. Here there
are animals that are, only from a humane point
of view, worth the drop of prussic acid which
puts them out of their misery.

Now we are accustomed to think that with
human beings, high feeding, luxurious living,
and constant appreciation on the one hand, and
want, privation, and contempt on the other, will
produce certain results on the character. Will
it be considered too great a stretch of the
imagination to say that something of the same sort is
observable in lower animals? As I sit and write
I get a glimpse through my window of a certain
populous thoroughfare. I see the cab-horse trot
by, with his head down and his ears slightly back,
in a sort of perpetual protest; and presently I
see a couple of highly-groomed ponies dance past
with curved necks, and ears pricked forward, and
hardly touching the ground, which they seem to
despise. Is it fancy to suppose that this is not
entirely a physical matter, and that there is
something of arrogance about these spoilt
beauties, and of humility in the poor cab-horse? Was
it purely an over-indulged fancy that made me
discern a great moral difference between the
dogs at the Islington Show and those at the
Refuge in Holloway?

I must confess that it did appear to me that
there was in those more prosperous dogs at the
"show," a slight occasional tendency to "give
themselves airs." They seemed to regard
themselves as public characters who really could not
be bored by introductions to private individuals.