the games, and Ben was lost
in admiration of the little Arab chief prancing on the white horse, “all saddled and bridled and fit for the fight.” Thorny
poked about to find a certain curious puzzle which he could put together without a mistake after long study. Even Sancho found
something to interest him; and, standing on his hind legs, thrust his head between the boys to paw at several red and blue
letters on square blocks.
“He looks as if he knew them,” said Thorny, amused at the dog’s eager whine and scratch.
“He does. Spell your name, Sanch”; and Ben put all the gay letters down upon the flags with a chirrup which set the dog’s
tail to wagging as he waited till the alphabet was spread before him. Then, with great deliberation, he pushed the letters
about till he had picked out six; these he arranged with nose and paw till the word “Sancho” lay before him correctly spelt.
“Isn’t that clever? Can he do any more?” cried Thorny, delighted.
“Lots; that’s the way he gets his livin’, and mine too,” answered Ben; and proudly put his poodle through his well-learned
lessons with such success that even Miss Celia was surprised.
“He has been carefully trained. Do you know how it was done?” she asked, when Sancho lay down to rest and be caressed by the
children.
“No, ’m, father did it when I was a little chap, and never told me how. I used to help teach him to dance, and that was easy
enough, he is so smart. Father said the middle of the night was the best time to give him his lessons; it was so still then,
and nothing disturbed Sanch and made him forget. I can’t do half the tricks, but I’m goin’ to learn whenfather comes back. He’d rather have me show off Sanch than ride, till I’m older.”
“I have a charming book about animals, and in it an interesting account of some trained poodles who could do the most wonderful
things. Would you like to hear it while you put your maps and puzzles together?” asked Miss Celia, glad to keep her brother
interested in their four-footed guest at least.
“Yes, ’m, yes, ’m,” answered the children; and, fetching the book, she read the pretty account, shortening and simplifying
it here and there to suit her hearers.
“’I invited the two dogs to dine and spend the evening; and they came with their master, who was a Frenchman. He had been
a teacher in a deaf and dumb school, and thought he would try the same plan with dogs. He had also been a conjurer, and now
was supported by Blanche and her daughter Lyda. These dogs behaved at dinner just like other dogs; but, when I gave Blanche
a bit of cheese and asked if she knew the word for it, her master said she could spell it. So a table was arranged with a
lamp on it, and round the table were laid the letters of the alphabet painted on cards. Blanche sat in the middle, waiting
till her master told her to spell cheese, which she at once did in French — FROMAGE . Then she translated a word for us very cleverly. Someone wrote
pferd,
the German for horse, on a slate. Blanche looked at it and pretended to read it, putting by the slate with her paw when she
had done. “Now give us the French for that word,” said the man; and she instantly brought CHEVAL. “Now, as you are at an Englishman’s house, give it to us in English”; and she brought me HORSE. Then we spelt some words wrong, and she corrected them with wonderful accuracy. But she did not seem to like it, and whined
and growled and looked soworried, that she was allowed to go and rest and eat cakes in a corner.
“’Then Lyda took her place on the table, and did sums on the slate with a set of figures. Also mental arithmetic, which was
very pretty. “Now, Lyda,” said her master, “I want to see if you understand division. Suppose you had ten bits of sugar, and
you met ten Prussian dogs, how many lumps would you, a French dog, give to each of the Prussians?” Lyda very decidedly