Not long before his execution, Charles bade farewell to his dogs and had them sent to the queen, lest their presence might distract him from more solemn thoughts. Of this queen, Henrietta Maria, a charming story is told, which, though it says little for her prudence, bears ample witness to her affectionate heart. On her return from Holland, she landed at Burlington, and staid there over night. Before daybreak the Parliamentary forces were at hand, and she with her ladies fled in haste. They had not gone very far when she noticed that Mitte, her lap-dog, had been left behind. Madame de Motteville calls it “an ugly old dog,” but adds that the queen was extremely fond of it. So it would seem, for heedless of remonstrance, back she rushed, caught up Mitte, who was still dozing on her bed, and once more sped away--in safety. It may be added that there was formerly, in Holyrood Palace, a painting of Charles and Henrietta, surrounded by their dogs. Prominent among these is a white Shock, which some think to be the identical Mitte of Burlington fame. Of the little dogs petted in former reigns, numerous specimens may be seen in pictures and engravings. A rare print of Lady Margaret Lenox, the mother of Darnley, shows one of them playing at her feet, with a dapper air that contrasts amusingly with her dignified appearance. It was reserved for Charles II. to bring the “Comforter” cult to its highest development, and win thereby much sarcastic notice from the writers of the time. Old Dr. Carns, who lived in Elizabeth’s reign, was particularly severe on this folly, but he could not have dreamed to what lengths it would reach a few years later. We might, with a little change of spelling, apply his words directly to the pug and terrier craze of fashionable ladies to-day. Speaking of the “spaniells gentle, or comforters,” he says: “These dogges are little, pretty, proper, and fyne, and sought for to satisfie the delicateness of daintie dames, instrumentes of folly for them to play and dally withal, to tryfle away the treasure of time, to withdraw their mindes from more commendable exercises.” Sarcasm and good advice alike were wasted. Where a king set the fashion, fine gentlemen and ladies delighted to follow, and lap-dogs became as necessary to their equipment as lace ruffles or brocades. Charles II. and his brother, James II., always liked dogs; and some fine canvases by Vandyke remain, in which the royal children are grouped with their four-footed friends. In one painting, Prince Charles is the central figure; one hand hangs idly at his side; the other rests on the head of a huge mastiff, near which frisks a tiny spaniel. The same spaniel probably, and another that might be its twin, act as “supporters” in a second painting to the three oldest children.