but further recital might weary. Let mention of her adventure with the garden hose suffice as an example of the rest. The curious serpentine length stretched out on the lawn interested her vastly, and when she heard the sissling noise made by the air escaping from the nozzle as the water came on down went her nose to investigate. A sudden jet full in the face caused a precipitate retreat, and now as the hose appears there is much commotion at a diplomatic distance.
These few words convey but inadequately the intelligence and charm of the Pyrenean Mountain dogs which Lady Sybil Grant is doing her best to acclimatise in this country. More delightful companions and trustworthy guardians could not be wished by the most exigent, nor is this surprising. For centuries they have lived in communion with their masters on the Pyrenean slopes, protecting the flocks from bears and wolves, or human depredators. With the practical disappearance of the former animals their vocation to an extent has gone, while the inherited instinct remains. They are no common sheep dogs, used to round up the flocks. In their native land, the shepherd, following the old Biblical custom, leads his sheep to the green pastures on the mountains with the advent of spring, and there they remain until winter approaches. Time was when severe toll would have been taken of the defenceless creatures during the long nights but for the unceasing watchfulness of the faithful Patous posted at various points.
