In the same house lived a larger spaniel, of the variety which takes to the water, and named Flora. She was an excellent house-dog, and, generally speaking, under no restraint. Some alarm, however, occasioned by a real or reported accident, caused the magistrate of the town in which her master resided, to issue an order, that no dogs should leave the premises of their owners without being muzzled. Accordingly, Flora, when she went out with the servant, had this instrument put on; she hated it at first, tried all she could to get it off, but at length appeared to become indifferent to the confinement which it produced. In consequence of this, it was, perhaps, more carelessly buckled on, and one day it came off, and the man stooped to put it in its place; Flora, however, was too quick for him, she took it up in her mouth, plunged with it into a neighbouring pond, and when she reached the deepest part, dropped the muzzle into it, and swam back, with her countenance expressing delight. All dogs enjoy the sport to which they are bred, and M. Blase tells us, that he was once shooting near Versailles, when his friend, M. Guilleman, accompanied him, with permission to kill wild ducks on the preserve. There was but one dog between them, but at the first shot, a fine spaniel ran up to them at full speed. He plunged into the water, and caressing M. Guilleman, seemed to say--"Here I am at your service; amuse me, and I will amuse you." The gentlemen pursued their sport all day, and the dog proved excellent. No one appeared to own him; but the sport over, off he set at full gallop, and they saw him no more. They spoke of him to the keeper of the water, who informed them, that the dog belonged to a sportsman living two leagues distant, who was at that time laid up with the gout. "The dog knows," added the keeper, "that persons come to shoot here every Sunday; and on that day, regularly makes his appearance. Having done his duty for the first sportsman whom he meets, he returns to his master." Mr. Martin, in his clever little treatise on dogs, vouches for the truth of the following story:--"One morning, as a lady was lacing her boots, one of the laces broke. She playfully said to her pet spaniel who was standing by her, 'I wish you would find me another boot lace,' but having managed to use that which was broken, she thought no more about it. On the following morning, when she was again lacing her boots, the dog ran up to her with a new silken boot-lace in his mouth. This created general amazement; for where the dog had obtained it no one could tell. There was no doubt, however, that he had purloined it from some one else."