Another dog of war was Pincher, who accompanied the Forty-second Highlanders. In the days when Napoleon’s empire hung trembling in the balance, this valiant terrier threw his own small influence into the scale against him, and gallantly barked and capered at Quatre Bras until wounded by a ball. Even then he refused to leave, and waited on the field for his friends. Somewhat later he charged with the Forty-second at Waterloo, came off unhurt from that tremendous field, entered Paris with the allies, and in 1818 brought his laurels home to Scotland. As in Bobby’s case, accident closed the life which the chances of war had spared: while out rabbit-hunting, poor Pincher by mistake was shot. Then there was Dash, who served in the Royal African Corps, and made it his special mission to examine the sentry rounds, and wake up any sentinel who might be napping at his post. Many a drowsy soldier had occasion to thank him, and he remained chief favorite with the corps until his death. Dogs have distinguished themselves in the navy as well as on land. Sir John Carr tells the story of a Newfoundland on the English ship Nymph. During an engagement with the French ship Cleopatra, the men at first tried to keep their pet below. In vain; he escaped them, and ran up on deck, barking furiously, with every sign of warlike rage. When the Cleopatra struck her colors, he was among the foremost to board her, and promenaded her deck with a proud and lofty air, as one who felt that his share in the victory was not small. Another Newfoundland, well named Victor, served on the Bellona, in the battle of Copenhagen. So courageous and cheerful was his mien amidst flying balls and smoke and roar of cannon, that the men could not refrain from cheering him, even in the hottest of the action. After peace was signed at Amiens and the troops were paid off, the men of the Bellona had a farewell dinner on shore. Honorably mindful of their four-footed comrade, seat and plate were kept for Victor at the table. And there he sat, dignified and sedate, among the veterans, sharing their roast beef and plum-pudding. They drank his health, too, and doubtless he responded in his own fashion to the toast. Finally, the bill was made out in his proper name, and--but here the parallel with human “diners out” ceases. It was settled by an adoring crowd of friends. Another naval hero was Admiral Collingwood’s Bounce, who barked stoutly through various battles, and who to undoubted courage joined no inconsiderable amount of vanity. After his master was raised to the peerage, Bounce put on all the airs which the sensible admiral had dispensed with--behaving, said the latter, as though he, too, had become a “right honorable.”