Twenty years had passed since Argus, the favourite dog of Ulysses, had been parted from his master. The monarch at length wended his way homewards, and, disguised as a beggar, for his life would have been sacrificed had he been known, stood at the entrance of his palace-door. There he met with an old dependant, who had formerly served him with fidelity and who was yet faithful to his memory; but age and hardship and care, and the disguise which he now wore, had so altered the wanderer that the good Eumaeus had not the most distant suspicion with whom he was conversing; but: Near to the gates, conferring as they drew, Argus the dog his ancient master knew, And, not unconscious of the voice and tread Lifts to the sound his ears, and rears his head. He knew the lord, he knew, and strove to meet; In vain he strove to crawl and kiss his feet; Yet, all he could, his tail, his ears, his eyes Salute his master, and confess his joys. [15] [Lord Byron, who had much experience and acquaintance with the canine family, was rather sceptical as regards the memory of this animal, having been, on one occasion, entirely forgotten by a favourite dog from whom he was separated some considerable time, and in fact was most savagely assailed by him, when on his return he attempted to caress him as he was wont to do in former times. This unkind reception at Newstead Abbey, on the part of his pampered pet, may have given rise to the poet's feelings as embodied in the following misanthropic lines:-- "And now I'm in the world alone, Upon the wide, wide sea: But why should I for others groan, When none will sigh for me? Perchance my dog will whine in vain, Till fed by stranger hands; But long ere I come back again, He'd tear me where he stands."--L.] In Daniel's Rural Sports, the account of a nobleman and his dog is given. The nobleman had been absent two years on foreign service. On his return this faithful creature was the first to recognise him, as he came through the court-yard, and he flew to welcome his old master and friend. He sprung upon him; his agitation and his joy knew not any bounds; and at length, in the fulness of his transport, he fell at his master's feet and expired. [An interesting circumstance, strongly exhibiting canine fidelity and attachment in a large mastiff, came under the Editor's own eye during his childhood, and which, from its striking character, deserves to be recorded on the page of history as another testimony to the high moral worth of these useful animals.