At East Barnet, in Hertfordshire, England, some years ago, a gentleman had a Canadian goose, which attached itself in the most affectionate manner to the house dog, but never attempted to enter his kennel, except in rainy weather. Whenever the dog barked, the goose set up a loud cackling, and ran at the person she supposed the dog barked at, and would bite at his heels. She was exceedingly anxious to be on the most familiar terms with her canine friend, and sometimes attempted to eat along with him, which, however, he would not suffer, nor indeed did he manifest the same friendship towards the goose, which it did towards him, treating it rather with indifference. This creature would never go to roost with the others at night, unless driven by main force; and when in the morning they were turned into the field, she refused to go thither, and bent her course towards the yard gate, where she sat all day watching the dog. The proprietor at length finding it in vain to attempt keeping these animals apart, gave orders that the goose should be no longer interfered with, but left entirely to the freedom of her own will. Being thus left at liberty to pursue her own inclinations, she ran about the yard with him all night, and when the dog went to the village, she never failed to accompany him, and contrived to keep pace with his more rapid movements by the assistance of her wings, and in this way, betwixt running and flying, accompanied him all over the parish. This extraordinary affection is supposed to have originated in the dog having rescued her from a fox in the very moment of distress. It continued for two years, and only terminated with the death of the goose. Now is not this a good story? and it is all about a goose, that people call a foolish bird. But here is another story, quite as good as any I have told. “An old goose,” says an English writer, “that had been for a fortnight hatching in a farmer’s kitchen, was perceived on a sudden to be taken violently ill. She soon after left the nest, and repaired to an outhouse where there was a young goose of the first year, which she brought with her into the kitchen. The young one immediately scrambled into the old one’s nest, sat, hatched, and afterwards brought up the brood. The old goose, as soon as the young one had taken her place, sat down by the side of the nest, and shortly after died. As the young goose had never been in the habit of entering the kitchen before, I know of no way of accounting for this fact, but by supposing that the old one had some way of communicating her thoughts and anxieties, which the other was perfectly able to understand. A sister of mine, who witnessed the transaction, gave me the information in the evening of the day it happened.”