I am tempted to copy the following anecdote of a Newfoundland dog from Anspach's History of the Island of Newfoundland, just published. I have seen the story before; but shall not attempt to determine whether the original relator of the story, or Anspach, be the authentic account; or whether the same thing may not have happened with two different dogs.

"The last quadruped that we shall mention under this head, though very far from being the least in worth, is the Newfoundland dog, a valuable and faithful friend to man, and an implacable enemy to sheep. When born or reared from an early age under the roof of man, this dog is the most useful animal in the island as a domestic. He answers some of the essential purposes of a horse; is docile, capable of strong attachment, and easy to please in the quality of his food; he will live upon scraps of boiled fish, whether salted or fresh, and on boiled potatoes and cabbage; but, if hungry, he will not scruple to steal a salmon, or a piece of raw salt pork from the tub in which they have been left to steep; he is likewise fond of poultry of the larger kind; but, as a beverage, nothing is equal in his estimation to the blood of sheep. The Author had purchased a puppy of the true breed, which had been brought from the northward of the island to Harbour-Grace. This puppy grew up to the size of a small donkey, as strong and fit for hard work, as he was tractable and gentle, even with the children of the family, of whom he seemed to be particularly fond; nor was he ever known, in any one instance, to disagree with the cats of the house, whom he treated rather with a kind of dignified condescension. But the dog, unless closely watched, would run after sheep wherever he could trace them, even drive them from high cliffs into the water, and jump in after them; not, however, without first considering the elevation of the cliff; for, if he thought it too great, he would run down and take the nearest more convenient place to continue his pursuit. The owner of that dog had, at one time, some domesticated wild geese, one of which would frequently follow him in his morning walks, side by side with Jowler: they seemed to live together on the best terms. Unfortunately the servant neglected one night to confine them, according to custom; the next morning the feathers of the favourite goose were found scattered in a small field adjoining to the grounds. The dog was soon after found concealed in a corner of the wood-yard, and on his master looking at him, exhibited evident signs of conscious guilt: his master took him to the field, and pointed out to him the feathers: the dog, staring at him, uttered a loud growl, and ran away with all the speed of which he was capable; nor could he bear his master's sight for some days afterwards. At another time, the Author had three young sheep, for whom in the day-time the dog seemed to affect the utmost indifference: the servant neglected one evening to take them into their shed, and to confine the dog; and the next morning the sheep were found stretched in the back-yard, lifeless, and without any other mark of violence than a small wound in the throat, from which the dog had sucked their blood. It is a remarkable circumstance, that the Newfoundland dog, when pursuing a flock of sheep, will single out one of them, and, if not prevented, which is a matter of considerable difficulty, will never leave off the pursuit until he has mastered his intended victim, always aiming at the throat; and, after having sucked the blood, has never been known to touch the carcase."