We brought him back home, but his looks weren't the same;

His innocent face wore a visage of shame,
The same as with boys who play the same game;
Let all heed the warning of Ted.

As time, the great healer of ills, passed away,
Our Ted tried his best his mistake to repay;
His looks were restored, he was happy and gay,
Was our little dog Ted.

And nothing but scars are now left to tell
Of bites and bad times that to Ted befell.
Transgression is hard, but right doing is well;
So learned little dog Ted.

So then heed the lesson that all should know, There's naught to be gained if wild oats you sow; Make sure you are right, or you'd better go slow; Avoid the mistakes of Ted.

—Mrs. Anna L. Colcord.

FAITHFUL TO HER TRUST

THE Owner of a large flock of sheep out West had occasion to change camp from the mountain range to his feeding-grounds about three miles. away. At the time, one of his collie dogs had a

litter of five puppies seventeen days old, which, as she was needed to help drive the sheep, she left behind.

The first night, as soon as the sheep were folded at the feeding-grounds and her responsibilities were over, she went straight back through a driving snow-storm to her young, and spent the night with them.

The next morning, however, true to her master, she was at the corral bright and early for her duties. She remained all day, guarding and herding the sheep, and at night started back for her babies again.

This continued for eleven days. On the morning of the twelfth day the dog was late at the corral, and the shepherd felt some uneasiness about her. After a little, however, she appeared, but this time bringing one of her pups, which had grown to considerable size, in her mouth. She had struggled all the three miles with it over a rough road. It was evidently her intention to bring all her pups up to the corral, one at a time, without sacrificing any of her time with the sheep, and thus save making the daily trip back and forth. This would have been quite a laborious task, and, bringing only one a day, would have required five days to accomplish the difficult undertaking.

Somewhat conscience-stricken at his neglect of the litter so far, the shepherd hitched up a wagon and went to the range after them.

This dog was faithful both to her puppies and to her master.

SANK'S LONG JOURNEY HOME

ONE of the most remarkable and inexplicable instincts of the dog is that by which he is able to find his way back home, although he may have been carried many miles away from it in a covered vehicle.

A farmer living near Grand Junction, Iowa, had a good shepherd-dog named Sank. He sold him to a man, a mover, on his way to Kimball, South Dakota, never expecting to see him again. After five or six weeks, however, here came Sank back home again one morning, evidently much wearied from his long jaunt of two hundred and fifty miles. How he remembered the way back was a marvel! In making this journey he had to cross the Big Sioux River, and travel half-way across two States. Correspondence with the mover revealed the fact that the dog had been taken all the way to Kimball, but had escaped soon after his arrival there.

What a love for his old home and his former

friends this dog must have had to undertake and complete so long a journey all alone! We do not always realize how much these poor dumb animals love us. Separated from us, they become lonesome and homesick, and long to see us again.

COACH-DOG AND AIREDALE TRAVEL LONG DISTANCES

ANOTHER instance illustrating forcibly the homing instinct in dogs is that of a farmer's coach-dog that was taken by train from Barry, Massachusetts, to Tilton, New Hampshire, a distance of about one hundred miles. Cars were changed several times on the journey. But notwithstanding the fact that he was carried in a closed car all this distance, he found his way back home in three weeks time.

Still another instance is that of an Airedale dog that had been shipped from Denver, Colorado, by its owner to a man living in St. Joseph, Missouri. About two weeks after arriving in St. Joseph the dog disappeared. A week later it arrived at its old home in Denver, having traveled the entire 700 miles in that time. The original owner said he would provide a good home for the dog the remainder of its life.

SHEP'S FRUITLESS SEARCH

GREAT as is the instinct and persistence of dogs to find their old homes and former masters and companions, they sometimes fail in their attempts to do this. The distance is too far, the crossroads too many, or the obstacles too great for them to succeed.

A man living at Rockville, Maryland, wished a shepherd-dog owned by a farmer living about thirty miles distant in Virginia, who had more dogs that he needed. Shep was brought by night in a covered wagon by the farmer to Washington, D. C. From there his new owner took him by night to his new home at Rockville, twenty miles north of Washington. After keeping him chained up for several days he was let loose, whereupon he disappeared at the first opportunity, and was gone for ten days. Finally he returned, much emaciated, and very weary as if from a long journey. He had evidently been making a long but fruitless search for his old home. There were some children there which had been great friends, companions, and playfellows of his, and he wished to see them again. But failing in this, he returned to his new home, and made friends of the children of this family, apparently much pleased at finding them again.