After King Olave had married his Irish spouse Gyda, he dwelt partly in England, partly in Ireland. While King Olave was in Ireland, it so happened that he was engaged in a certain expedition attended by a great naval force. When they were short of plunder, they went ashore, and drove off a great multitude of cattle. Then a certain peasant followed them, begging that they would return him the cows which belonged to him in the herd they were driving away. King Olave answered, “Drive off your cows, if you know them, and can separate them from the herd of oxen, so as not to delay our journey; but I believe that neither you nor any one else can do this, from among so many hundreds of oxen as we are driving.” The peasant had a large herdsman’s dog, which he ordered to sort the herds of oxen that were collected. The dog ran about through all the herds of oxen, and drove off as many oxen as the peasant had said he wanted; all these oxen were marked in the same manner, from which they inferred that the dog had rightly distinguished them. Then the king says, “Your dog is very sagacious, peasant! will you give me the dog?” He answered, “I will, with pleasure.” The king immediately gave him a large gold ring, and promised him his friendship. This dog was named Vigins, and he was of all dogs the most sagacious and the best; that dog was long in King Olave’s possession. G. D. ANIMAL HEAT. First Article. A few years ago a conjuror made his appearance in London, whose performances were so wonderful that his audience, instead of being confined to the foolish and thoughtless people who usually encourage such exhibitions, included many of the most eminent philosophers and scientific men of the day. It may naturally be supposed that his feats must have been more than usually ingenious, to attract persons of such consequence; and indeed many of them were so wonderful, that, had he ventured to exhibit them a century or two ago, they would inevitably have led him to the stake or the scaffold, for having too intimate an acquaintance with a certain disreputable personage whom it is not necessary to particularize by name. This great conjuror defied all the ordinary laws of nature. He would not condescend to exhibit such vulgar mountebank tricks as crunching red-hot coals in his mouth, and dining on tenpenny nails; but he struck the faculty with the greatest horror, by making poison of all kinds his common food; breakfasting on a strong solution of arsenic, and taking a short drachm of prussic acid before dinner, as a whet for his appetite. More wonderful still was his manner of preparing this dinner: he used to have an oven heated intensely, every day, into which he walked, or crawled, with the greatest composure, taking with him a raw beef-steak, which in the course of seven or eight minutes was well cooked by the intense heat of the place, whilst the only