Dogs can also communicate their wishes to us. The action of begging in dogs is a mode of communication with us. Mr. Romanes tells of a dog that was found opposite a rabbit-hutch begging for rabbits. When I was at the Diocesan College near Capetown, a retriever, Scamp, used to come in and sit with the lecturers at supper. He despised bread, but used to get an occasional bone, which he was not, however, allowed to eat in the hall. He took it to the door, and stood there till it was opened for him. On one occasion he heard without the excited barking of the other dogs. He trotted round the hall, picked up a piece of bread which one of the boys had dropped, and stood with it in his mouth at the door. When it was opened, he dropped the bread, and raced off into the darkness to join in the fun. In a similar way, but with less marked intelligence, I have seen a dog begging before a door which he wished opened. My cat has been taught to touch the handle of the door with his paw when he wishes to leave the room. Mr. Arthur Lee, of Bristol, tells me that a favourite cat has a habit of knocking for admittance by raising the door-mat and letting it fall. This is an action similar to those communicated by several observers to _Nature_, where cats have learnt either to knock for admittance or to ring the bell--an action which, as my friend, Mr. J. Clifton Ward, informed me, was also performed by a dog of his. I think, therefore, that it is unquestionable that the higher animals are able to associate arbitrary signs with certain objects and actions, and to build these signs into the constructs that they form. Sir John Lubbock has tried some experiments with his intelligent black poodle Van, with the object of ascertaining how far the dog could be taught to communicate his wishes by means of printed cards. "I took," he says,[GI] "two pieces of cardboard, about ten inches by three, and on one of them printed in large letters the word 'FOOD,' leaving the other blank. I then placed the two cards over two saucers, and in the one under the 'Food' card put a little bread-and-milk, which Van, after having his attention called to the card, was allowed to eat. This was repeated over and over again till he had had enough. In about ten days he began to distinguish between the two cards. I then put them on the floor, and made him bring them to me, which he did readily enough. When he brought the plain card, I simply threw it back; while, when he brought the 'Food' card, I gave him a piece of bread, and in about a month he had pretty well learned to realize the difference. I then had some other cards printed with the words 'Out,' 'Tea,' 'Bone,' 'Water,' and a certain number also with words to which I did not intend him to attach any significance, such as 'Nought,' 'Plain,' 'Ball,' etc. Van soon learned that bringing a card was a request, and soon learned to distinguish between the plain and printed cards; it took him longer to