WONDERFUL FEATS PERFORMED BY DOGS—MOST CELEBRATED DOGS OF THE WORLD—LEARNING THE ALPHABET—TO PLAY CARDS AND DOMINOES—TO select ANY ARTICLE DESIRED AND PUT IT ANYWHERE DIRECTED.  
Our last chapter gave a wide range of tricks performed by dogs, most of which can be taught by the amateur trainer. There is another class of tricks, requiring great intelligence on the part of the dog, and rare skill and patience on the part of the trainer, for their successful mastery. Though these may be beyond the abilities of ordinary dogs and ordinary trainers—for such feats are very rare, even in public exhibitions, and when performed, are looked upon almost as miracles—they cannot fail to prove interesting to our readers, and it is barely possible that some reader of this book may yet astonish the world with some equally proficient animal, to rival those whose deeds are herein recorded.
The French trainers have probably brought the education of the dog to a point achieved in no other country, and several of these canine celebrities have become subjects of history. Emil de Tarade gives a very interesting account of two of these, the principal part of which account we translate, as follows:
“In 1840 I was acquainted with M. Leonard, of Lisle, (an inspector of the revenue) who possessed two well taught dogs. Braque and Philax, as they were named, were two grayhounds, with large brown ears. Their eyes alone would tell you how much intelligence had been developed in these interesting animals. Words were fixed in their memory with a positive meaning. These dogs knew as well as we do the meaning of ‘above,’ ‘below,’ ‘before,’ ‘behind,’ etc. They made a proper application of the name of a color, of a number up to a certain point; knew what was meant by ‘parlor,’ ‘corridor,’ ‘stairs;’ knew the furniture, utensils, small objects of the pocket and toilet; and when one bade these dogs perform in the absence of their master, one was seized with astonishment and admiration.
“If you said to one: ‘Go sit down in front of the lady in the rose-colored dress,’ the dog went immediately to seek the lady so designated, seated himself upon his haunches, wagging his tail, and regarding the lady with a very expressive look. ‘Ask the lady for her thimble.’ The lady offered successively her handkerchief, gloves, etc., but the animal did not move. 97As soon as she presented the thimble, he ran off, making a thousand gambols at having obtained it. After this he passed gravely about the room, as if to say: ‘What shall I do with it?’ On saying to him: ‘Go to the sofa in front of the fireplace—there is a hat upon it—put the thimble in the hat, and carry it to the lady in blue,’ the dog would strictly carry out the order.
“Placing a piece of meat on a piece of bread, and putting the whole into a corner of the room, you might say to either of these dogs: ‘Seek it! Seize it!’ The animal would run toward the object in question, but on nearing it, he would face about, seat himself before you with a pleasant air, as if to say: ‘I only eat what my master gives me—is Mons. Leonard present?’ The latter would say: ‘Leave the meat—put it on the ground—eat the bread.’ The order would be executed.
“Both these dogs knew how to play dominoes, and this is the method in which it was done: One dog was made to seat himself upon a chair before a table on which were placed the dominoes, and opposite a human player. It was necessary to give the dog only four dominoes, which were laid out in a row, the faces toward him. If he had a double six he played it at once, placing it in the middle of the table. If he had not, he waited for his opponent to play. Then, if he had a domino proper to play, he did not fail to do it, though he never adjusted it nicely—contenting himself with placing it at the end to which it belonged. If you attempted to cheat, by placing a two, for instance, where a six belonged, he contented himself (if it was a lady) with returning the wrong domino; but if it was a gentleman, he accompanied the correction with a growl, as if to say: ‘Do not revoke, sir.’ These feats were performed by these dogs either in the presence or absence of their master.
“One day, walking in the country, I asked M. Leonard to order the dogs to go over a fence right and left. He did so by command only, Philax going over on our left, and Braque on the right, as they were ordered. Then he ordered them to kiss each other; they pushed muzzle to muzzle in quite an amusing way. Another thing, the dogs were frequently sent to the butcher, baker, or grocer, with a basket and written message, and on these occasions it was only necessary to say: ‘Go to the butcher!’ ‘Go to the baker!’ or, ‘Go to the grocer!’ and the command was always obeyed without fail. On these occasions, one would carry the basket, and the other would act as guard.
“One may see from this that if the grayhound, the least intelligent of his kind, is capable of such instruction, all dogs are 98capable of being taught to do things which seem apparently impossible.”
Still another French celebrity of the canine kind is described by a writer in Le Siecle, a Paris journal. Mlle. Bianca, as she was called, one of the pug breed, created quite a sensation among amusement seekers at the time she was exhibited, and her wonderful feats were witnessed by large audiences. We did not see her performance, but have been assured by persons who did, that the following, though perhaps a little highly colored—as is the habit of most French writers—is yet substantially an accurate description of the dog’s feats. Le Siecle’s reporter says:
“As most of the Parisian papers have mentioned this little phenomenon, who reminds the public of the genius of the illustrious Munito, I, in turn, wished to make Mlle. Bianca’s acquaintance. She did me the honor to accord a private audience to me, for which I am extremely grateful. To see artists on the theater of their exploits is doubtless very agreeable, but to be introduced into their intimate circle of friendship, is still more precious. If these lines should fall under Mlle. Bianca’s eyes—as it is not improbable, for artists generally do not disdain to read newspapers where their merits are vaunted—she may see that, though I am only a man, may hert is no stranger to every sentiment of gratitude. Let me say, in the first place, in praise of my heroine, that her modesty exceeds even that of male and female literary people, who are, as everybody knows, a most modest race. Vanity, that horrible fault which some observers have insisted they were able to detect in some men and women—fortunately extremely rare—is no canine vice; and great as are Mlle. Bianca’s talents, she remains what nature made her—simple and good natured, and as sprightly as beautiful.
“She reads fluently, writes in her way, corrects faults of orthography, takes part in a game of ecarte, forms a bouquet by the names of flowers or their colors, and barks, or at least is familiar with, nineteen languages. Even if we admit the natural affection which Mlle. Bianca’s professor has for his excellent pupil has betrayed him into exaggerating the talents of Mlle. Bianca some fifteen more tongues than she really possesses, nevertheless she will still be a most distinguished polyglotist. This I can affirm. I gave her the English word ‘God’ to translate into Latin. She instantly, and without hesitation, composed the word ‘Deus.’ This is her modus operandi: She is placed on a table sufficiently large to allow her to move easily in every direction. She is in the center of the table. All 99around her are small bits of pasteboard, bearing each a letter of the alphabet. When a spectator gives a word, or asks for a translation, Mlle. Bianca seems to think a moment, half closes her eyes, like a poet hunting for a rhyme, and moves around the table, taking pasteboard, letter after letter, until she completes the word. She does this quietly, easily, without ever being betrayed into hurry. The word formed, she gravely takes her seat and gives one bark, as a printer places a period at the end of a sentence. She plays cards, and forms nosegays in the same way. While this intellectual animal is at work, her master stands motionless, some three or four paces from the table, but does not say a word. He sometimes disappears entirely behind a door, and Mlle. Bianca works wonders as effectually as when he is present. I said to her tutor: ‘So your dog really reads and understands what is said to her?’
“‘How can you doubt it, as you see she does so as well when I am absent as when I am by her side?’
“‘She really is the worthy peer of Munito, the Newton of the canine race.’
“‘Munito!’ quickly exclaimed Mlle. Bianca’s tutor, his lip curling with contempt as he spoke. ‘Munito was a miserable humbug; one of those dogs who abuse the public credulity.’
“‘What? Munito a humbug? You astound me!’
“‘Yes, sir; and were Munito here, I should tell him so to his face. Impostors and dogs of real talents should not be confounded. Munito did not know B from a bull’s foot, while Bianca has learned by rule. What she knows, she knows thoroughly.’
“‘Is it possible Munito knew nothing, and merely concerted with his master to appear learned?’
“‘You have hit the nail on the head.’
“‘Do you mean to tell me there are pseudo savants among dogs? I thought men had a monopoly of that plague.’
“‘Dogs don’t escape it.’
“‘Good heavens! can a fellow trust neither man nor dog? Do enter into particulars; and since I am doomed, it seems, to lose one more illusion, let the loss, at least, turn to the profit of my knowledge.’
“‘I, too, was a dupe to Munito’s merits; but one fine morning the scales fell from my eyes, and I discovered the truth. Like my Bianca—forgive me the odious comparison, dear!—Munito stood in the center of a circle formed of bits of pasteboard bearing letters, or figures, or colors. I grant you, Munito had a good deal of brains; he was no fool, I admit, and his ear was exquisitely delicate. Had he been trained by a good method, 100he would have attained high rank; but his master, who was an Italian, preferred turning his delicacy of hearing to profit, rather than bringing him up by rule.’
“‘Ah! Munito was no classic. But, pray tell me, did he then belong to the romantic school?’
“‘Not a bit more than he belonged to the classical school. All his talents lay in obeying his master’s signals. Munito walked gravely around the table, assuming the airs of a member of the French academy; but incapable as he was of reading or distinguishing colors, he never stopped to pick up the bit of pasteboard except when his master gave him the signal. Munito’s master stood with his hand in his breeches pocket. He would snap a finger nail or a tooth pick, and this click, though so slight as to escape the attention of the spectators, was caught by the dog’s ear, and who instantly received the reward of his criminal comedy. He was given a bonbon. Do you know of what that so-called bonbon was made? ’Twas nothing but bread and meat hashed fine and rolled in the shape of a ball; but there was no more sugar in it than there is in a black draught. Such cheating really deserves the brand of history. If you think I speak harshly of Munito, my excuse is, he is dead. We owe nothing but truth to dead dogs as well as dead men.’”
The reader will perceive that, for the best results, a systematic course of education is necessary rather than the teaching of a mere trick, to be performed at a recognized signal from the trainer. Presuming that the dog has been taught to fetch and carry, as described in the preceding chapter, and may thereby be considered to be well up in the rudiments of canine education, the following, which may be termed the “classical” course, would be the system of instruction—it is, indeed, the same as was pursued with Braque and Philax:
Having taught your dog the meaning of the words, “go fetch it,” “bring it,” “drop it,” “bring it back,” you will next teach him the names of different articles. Let us first take a handkerchief, and placing it upon the ground, order him to “bring the handkerchief,” until the name is impressed on his memory. Now we will add a glove, and direct the dog to “bring the glove.” Should he bring the handkerchief instead, we scold him, but should he bring the glove, we reward him. When he has thoroughly learned to distinguish these articles by name, a key may be added, and the same method of teaching continued. One by one other articles may be added, until the number is sufficiently large to make the trick entertaining. When he has b............