There is a beautiful species of dog, often the inhabitant of the gentleman's stable--the Dalmatian or coach dog. He has, perhaps, less affection for the human species than any other dog, except the greyhound and the bull-dog; he has less sagacity than most others, and certainly less courage. He is attached to the stable; he is the friend of the horse; they live under the same roof; they share the same bed; and, when the horse is summoned to his work, the dog accompanies every step. They are certainly beautiful dogs, and it is pleasing to see the thousand expressions of friendship between them and the horse; but, in their continual excursions through the streets, they are exposed to some danger, and particularly to that of being bitten by rabid dogs. It is a fearful business when this takes place. The coachman probably did not see the affray; no suspicion has been excited. The horse rubs his muzzle to the dog, and the dog licks the face of the horse, and in a great number of cases the disease is communicated from the one to the other. The dog in process of time dies, the horse does not long survive, and, frequently too, the coachman shares their fate. I have known at least twenty horses destroyed in this way. A depraved appetite is a frequent attendant on rabies in the dog. He refuses his usual food; he frequently turns from it with an evident expression of disgust; at other times, he seizes it with greater or less avidity, and then drops it, sometimes from disgust, at other times because he is unable to complete the mastication of it. This palsy of the organs of mastication, and dropping of the food, after it has been partly chewed, is a symptom on which implicit confidence may be placed.