--M.L.B.]
ROVER.
Rover is now about six years old. He was born half a year before our
eldest girl; and is accordingly looked upon as a kind of elder brother
by the children. He is a small, beautiful liver-coloured spaniel, but
not one of your goggle-eyed Blenheim breed. He is none of your lap dogs.
No, Rover has a soul above that. You may make him your friend, but he
scorns to be a pet. No one can see him without admiring him, and no one
can know him without loving him. He is as regularly inquired after as
any other member of the family; for who that has ever known Rover can
forget him? He has an instinctive perception of his master's friends, to
whom he metes out his caresses in the proportion of their attachment to
the chief object of his affections. When I return from an absence, or
when he meets an old friend of mine, or of his own (which is the same
thing to him) his ecstacy is unbounded; he tears and curvets about the
room as if mad; and if out of doors, he makes the welkin ring with his
clear and joyous note. When he sees a young person in company he
immediately selects him for a play fellow. He fetches a stick, coaxes
him out of the house, drops it at his feet; then retiring backwards,
barking, plainly indicates his desire to have it thrown for him. He is
never tired of his work.
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