Many years ago my father-in-law (the late Isaac Ingersoll, Esq.), a prominent man in the District, and a wealthy farmer, widely known, had frequent applications from parties in Kingston for a good milch cow. In those days milk was not delivered, as now, at every door in towns, and it became a necessity for every family to have a cow. The wealthier people wanted good ones, and as the old gentleman was known to keep good stock, he was enabled to get good prices. On one occasion he sold a cow to a gentleman in the town above named, and sent her by steamboat down the Bay of Quinte, a distance of over thirty miles. A week after, the old man was surprised one morning to find this cow in his yard. She had made her escape from her new master, and returned to her old quarters and associates. She was sent back, and after a time got away and travelled the thirty miles again, and was found in the yard. The second journey of course was not so difficult, but by what process did she discover, in the first place, the direction she was taken, and pursue a road which she had never travelled, back to her old quarters. At her new home she was, if anything, better fed and cared for; why should she embrace the first opportunity to steal away and seek her old companions? Who can explain these things? In this case there is an attachment evinced for home and associates, and a persistence in returning to them, most remarkable, and in the case of the dog, an intelligence (or what you may be pleased to call it), which enabled him to trace his master, and overtake him, which is altogether beyond human ken. There is the irrepressible cat, too. Every household is troubled from time to time with one or more of these animals, which from their _snuping_ propensities become a nuisance. I have on more than one occasion put one in a bag and carried it miles away, and then let it go, rather than kill it outright; but it was sure to be back almost as soon as myself.