“We still have slept together, Rose at an instant, learn’d, play’d, eat together; And wheresoe’er we went, like Juno’s swans, Still we went coupled, and inseparable.” It was late in August, and the weather so sultry, that we scarcely knew how to bear with the intense heat. Some did nothing but lap the water, always running in a clear fine stream, from the fountain in the court, and assuaged their thirst by continual sipping. Others drank deeply, but seldom; and all, more or less, evinced the feverish suffering they endured. I was lying in a shady corner of the court one day about noontide, when I happened to notice a hound of the name of Gameboy go two or three times towards the fountain, and then turn from it with a slight shudder. Rising from the ground, I went towards him and said, “What’s the matter?” “I don’t know,” replied he, “but I feel very strange. I’m dreadfully thirsty, and yet cannot go near the water.” I now perceived that his eyes looked dull and leaden, and his body shook, as if every nerve and sinew were shattered and unstrung. “Perhaps you have eaten something that has disagreed with you,” returned I. “No,” added he; “I picked up a bone in our walk this morning, but that couldn’t injure me.” “What’s that wound on your shoulder,” I asked. “A mere scratch,” said he, “I got from a cur three days ago. He flew at me while passing a cottage garden, and just touched me on the skin.” This intelligence struck me with the most inexpressible uneasiness, and I went to Trimbush, who was asleep, and waking him, repeated all I had seen and heard. In a moment the old hound jumped from his posture of indolence, and approaching Gameboy, regarded him minutely. “Are you unwell?” said he. “Yes,” replied Gameboy; “I never felt so queer before.” “Are you thirsty?” “Awfully so,” he rejoined, “and yet cannot drink.” “But why?” asked Trimbush. Gameboy gave an involuntary shudder, and said, “The sight, and even the noise of water, is more painful than I can describe.” “Let me see you make an effort to go near it,” responded my companion. “Perseverance may overcome this, seemingly, nervous affection.” In accordance with the desire, poor Gameboy turned his head towards the fountain, and endeavoured to approach it; but had scarcely taken a stride in the direction, when a spasm appeared to seize him, and with a howl he rushed cowering to the farthest corner of the court. The attention of the rest of the hounds was attracted by this, and several were trotting towards him to learn the cause, when Trimbush interposed by saying, “Stay--_he’s mad_.”