Dogs are very human after all; they have a great many of our virtues and nearly all our vices. I expect it is this that endears them to us, for "One touch of nature makes all the world kin." They are just as contradictory, as disappointing, as ourselves. Why will they always show off to such bad advantage? After spending weeks in teaching them, and fortunes on pieces of sugar, why, before an audience, will they insist on ringing the bell when they are told to shut the door? and when you ask them to sit up and beg, _why_ do they die for the Queen? A little while ago we used to have grand steeplechases with our dogs. We put up fences and water jumps, all of which--with the aid of sugar again--they were able to master in time. I think they used to get quite excited themselves at last. Our old gardener, who used to watch the races with great interest, told me once that he "'ad seen one of the little dawgs a'jumpin' backwards and forwards over that 'ere bit of wood (the highest and most perilous jump), and a'practisin' by hisself!" He _was_ a very clever "little dawg," but I don't think he ever reached such a pitch of intelligence as to practice "by hisself." We had to fill up the fences down to the ground, or, to save themselves the trouble of getting over, they would run under or scramble through in some extraordinary fashion, which in the end took much the most time and pains. Humanity again! Lazy people always take the most trouble! When I was a little girl I had every morning to learn and repeat to my governess three verses from a French Bible. I thought I had hit upon an easy way of getting over this, and of reducing the quantity I had to commit to memory; so I chose the cxxxvi. Psalm, in which you will find, if you care to look it up (I have just had to do the same to find out the number, not being by any means a living concordance to the Psalms!)--you will find that half of each verse is composed of the words, "For His mercy endureth for ever." Ingenuity wasted! Trouble increased! Not one whit the better off was I. Until that Psalm was finished I had to learn six verses instead of three. I retired anything but satisfied, and heartily wishing I had left that Psalm alone. It was very mean of my governess all the same. She should better have appreciated the craftiness of her pupil. But, poor things, they have to be very sharp and always on the look-out, or the children will take them in; they will not let any opportunity escape them, and, indeed, I pity anyone who has the care of these unraveled Sphinxes, these uncut Gordian knots. CHAPTER X. ON CONCERTS. I am not thinking about the Albert Hall Concerts, where the highest in the musical world go time after time, always singing the same songs.