At dinner-time I took my place at table on his right hand in low spirits, ate little, and said nothing. "It will come with the dessert," I thought. Rose looked at me, and I avoided meeting her eyes. As I had expected, the dessert over, my uncle lit his pipe, raised his head, and then-- "Rose--come here!" Rose went to him. "Do you know what that fellow there asked me to do, yesterday?" I trembled like a leaf, and Rose did the same. [Illustration: "DO YOU LOVE HIM?"] "To give him your hand," he added. "Do you love him?" Rose cast down her eyes. "Very well," continued my uncle; "on this side, the case is complete. Come here, you." I approached him. "Here I am, uncle," and, in a whisper. I added quickly: "Forgive me!" He burst into a hearty laugh. "Marry her, then, donkey--since you love her, and I give her to you!" "Ah!--uncle!" "Ah!--dear papa!" And Rose and I threw ourselves into his arms. "Very good! very good!" he cried, wiping his eyes. "Be happy, that's all I ask." And, in turn, he whispered in my ear:-- "I should have given her to you all the same, you big goose; but--keep the story of the helmet between us two!" I give you my word that I have never told it but to Rose, my dear little wife. And, if ever you pass along the Rue des Claquettes, No. 53, at the place of honour in the old shop, I'll show you my uncle's helmet, which we would never sell. * * * * * _The Music of Nature._ BY A. T. CAMDEN PRATT. II. Reference was made at the close of the last article to the voice of the dog, and his method of making his feelings and desires understood. It is, of course, well known that this is an acquired habit, or accomplishment. In a state of Nature the dog does not even bark; he has acquired the art or knowledge from his companionship with man. Isaiah compares the blind watchman of Israel to dogs, saying, "They are dumb; they cannot bark." Again, to quote the argument of Dr. Gardiner: "The dog indicates his different feelings by different tones." The following is his yelp when his foot is trod upon. [Illustration] [Illustration: DOG YELPING.] Haydn introduces the bark of a dog into the scherzo in his 38th quartette. Indeed, the tones of the "voice" of the dog are so marked, that more than any other of the voices of Nature they have been utilized in music. The merest tyro in the study of dog language can readily distinguish between the bark of joy--the "deep-mouthed welcome as we draw near home," as Byron put it--and the angry snarl, the yelp of pain, or the accents of fear. Indeed, according to an assertion in the "Library of Entertaining Knowledge," the horse knows from the bark of a dog when he may expect an attack on his heels. Gardiner suggests that it would be worth while to study the language of the dog. Perhaps Professor Garnier, when he has reduced the language of the monkey to "A, B, C," might feel inclined to take up the matter. [Illustration] [Illustration: THE OX.]