their feet, and perhaps as many little shaggy heads peeping forth from their capacious pockets. These may be honest men, for aught we-know; but we are bound to state that the legitimate dog-traders are at least equalled in number by the dog-pirates who constantly infest the streets of London, seeking whose dog they may purloin. Evidence of their exploits is continually visible in the shop-windows, in the shape of hand-bills offering rewards for the recovery of lost dogs.

There are several dog-hospitals in London, whither diseased dogs are sent by their owners for medical treatment. The practice in these hospitals has diminished since the passing of the act above alluded to, though doubtless many interesting cases are still to be found in the various wards. Our good friend once had a hospital himself, but the pirates broke into it at night, and marched off with a valuable prize; and since then he has housed his patients in his own domicile, where, as he takes but a few at a time, they do not incommode him, and are all the better attended to.

Many of the dogs of the first class, belonging to the aristocracy, are, when sick, attended by the "regular faculty:" and this, according to our informant, is perfectly as it should be. "For," says he, "the anatomy of the dog resembles much more than you might suppose that of the human being; and whether it be that, associating with mankind so much, and leading a sort of artificial life, he has picked up a kind of human constitution, I don't pretend to say; but it is very certain that he is liable to a good many of the disorders to which we are ourselves subject. It is a fact, that there is hardly a dog that lives out of doors in the mud and wet but what gets the rheumatism very bad, just as we should do if we led the same sort of life. Then they get the asthma from being tied up in damp places. Lots of them die in their youth from a disease very like consumption. When overgorged and indulged, they will die of apoplexy. They perish by epidemics and fevers at times; and they get nervous and

hippish, just like lazy gentlefolks, when they get no exercise. Now, I've studied dogs, and very little else, for forty years, and I s'pose I know what a dog is. I never want to look further than a dog's eye to know what's the matter with him. You can tell something by the tongue, but the tongue's deceitful; the eye tells you the truth, if you know how to judge of it. I'll show you a dog (and he fetched one hardly bigger than its own tail from an inner room)-What should you think was the matter with that dog?"

"Have not the slightest idea."

"Fits, sir-come from China eighteen months ago—and they've allowed his wool to grow till he was smothered in it. I've cut off more than his own weight, docked all but his tail, you see; and he's a coming round, though he's a little bit fittified still. He'll be all right in another month, except his coat. Here's another, one of the handsomest terriers ever you see-two years old, and weighs less than three pounds; there's nothing the matter with him; he's here upon diet-I shan't give him medicine."

"What medicines do you generally use?"

"I prepare all my medicines myself, in order that I may be sure of their effects; but I use pretty nearly the same drugs that I should give to the best friend I had in the world, if he was ill and I had to doctor him. There are some exceptions, but not many: thus, if you or I take a powerful dose of aloes, it gripes us fearful; but a dog will swallow a lump of it and feel nothing: on the other hand, you may take calomel, four or five grains, and do you good, while half a grain might kill a dog. But generally speaking, the same medicine produces pretty nigh the same effects both in dogs and men."

"Do you ever administer bark?" I asked; but the good man was superior to a joke, and replied seriously, that he did not, because minute doses of quinine were better and more easy to manage.

The tenderness with which he handled his patients, and the grateful fondness of the creatures themselves for their benefactor were amusing to witness; and I left Pincher in his care with the assurance that all that science and kindness could do would be done for his restoration.

Sure enough, three weeks after, that saucy young dog came home again, and brought such an appetite with him as was quite terrific to witness. The first thing the rascal did was to jump upon my writing-table, whisking off my papers right and left with his furious long tail, and commence licking my face. Then his impudence dashed out of the open window into the garden, and set to work digging up a lot of bones which he had buried against a hungry day, and, planting himself in the centre of the grass plat, employed the whole of the morning in settling the arrears of that account. He has recovered now nearly all his flesh and more than all his vivacity; in fact, there is no teaching him decorum. Down Pincher! Ha! would you? Down, sir!

BEATING THE BOUNDS.

A STRANGER to the civic customs prevailing among the English, is sometimes startled with curious out-of-door exhibitions, which defy all his attempts to fathom them; and it sometimes happens, too, that on seeking an explanation from those who are supposed to know all about it, he is put off with a conjecture, more or less fortunate, instead of a veracious solution of the problem. The wisdom of our forefathers is often a riddle to their descendants; and though she lift up her voice in the streets, as in affairs municipal she is very much given to do, she cries in an unknown tongue to the majority of those who hear. In the streets of London, numberless demonstrations are made, from time to time, before the eye of the public, of the signification of which the larger portion of spectators know but little, and care less; yet they all have a signification, if we choose to look for it; and primitive and even puerile as some of them may appear, they might hardly be abolished without the risk of losing with them some positive advantage which it would be better to retain. Among these out-of-door observances, one of the most frequent occurrence in the summer months, is, that procession of juveniles which once a year, in every parish in London, starts from the vestry-door of the parochial church to traverse the limits of the parish, or, in colloquial phrase, to "beat the bounds." The practice is a very old one- -how old, we have no means of ascertaining. Every parish is of course in possession of maps of its own domain; but something more than this is supposed to be necessary in order to

prevent its limits from being encroached upon. In London, a single yard of land may chance to be worth a large sum of money; and every possible precaution is taken to prevent any doubt as to the proprietorship of every square inch of the soil. Cast-iron plates bearing inscriptions in raised letters, indicative of the claim of the parish to the land upon which they stand, are inserted in the walls of houses and warerooms, or affixed to beams of timber or upright posts along the whole route of the parish boundaries; and these are formally visited and identified once a year, to ascertain that they stand where they did; and the boys of the charityschool are always chosen as visitors, in order that the rising generation may be duly impressed with their parochial rights and privileges, and made intimate with the extent of the territory which at some future day may chance to be confided to their guardianship. In ancient times, as we are informed upon very good authority, the custom of beating the bounds, which is now one of unmingled pleasure and festivity, was celebrated in a manner not exclusively joyous. The boys did not then regard it altogether as a holiday, seeing that certain of their number, who, it is to be hoped, had earned a right to that distinction, were regularly horsed and soundly whipped in presence of the several inscriptionplates defining the boundaries. The castigation, it was shrewdly judged, was an efficient means of impressing the localities upon their memories. There is no doubt that our forefathers were right in that respect: a fact thus effectually brought home to an individual's consciousness, at that tender age when the mind (and the epidermis) is susceptible of the slightest impressions, was not likely to be forgotten; and there is no record to show that it ever was. It is long ago, however, since innovations crept into this part of the ceremony; and within the memory of man a different practice has prevailed. At the present day, the boys carry in their hands willow-wands peeled white; and with these they

眼