Reference was made at the close of the last article to the voice of the
dog, and his method of making his feelings and desires understood. It
is, of course, well known that this is an acquired habit, or
accomplishment. In a state of Nature the dog does not even bark; he has
acquired the art or knowledge from his companionship with man. Isaiah
compares the blind watchman of Israel to dogs, saying, "They are dumb;
they cannot bark." Again, to quote the argument of Dr. Gardiner: "The
dog indicates his different feelings by different tones." The following
is his yelp when his foot is trod upon.

[Illustration]
[Illustration: DOG YELPING.]

Haydn introduces the bark of a dog into the scherzo in his 38th
quartette. Indeed, the tones of the "voice" of the dog are so marked,
that more than any other of the voices of Nature they have been utilized
in music. The merest tyro in the study of dog language can readily
distinguish between the bark of joy--the "deep-mouthed welcome as we
draw near home," as Byron put it--and the angry snarl, the yelp of pain,
or the accents of fear. Indeed, according to an assertion in the
"Library of Entertaining Knowledge," the horse knows from the bark of a
dog when he may expect an attack on his heels. Gardiner suggests that it
would be worth while to study the language of the dog. Perhaps Professor
Garnier, when he has reduced the language of the monkey to "A, B, C,"
might feel inclined to take up the matter.

[Illustration]
[Illustration: THE OX.]