for such a dog, which he later on presented to Jem Belcher, a boxer of repute in those days, for it was but meet that the champion fighting biped should own the champion fighting quadruped. This dog was a fawn or fallow specimen, with legs more or less bowed or crooked, and he was no doubt about equally bred between a bull dog and a coarse terrier.

About this period dogs between 30lb. and 40lb. were most in favour, few or none of them were altogether white, and brindled or fallow markings of different degrees of darkness on a white ground were commonest. At the same time there were smaller bull terriers, and these latter were usually used in the rat pit, where their value lay in an ability to kill a certain number of big rats (we never hear of little rats) within a stipulated time. think I am quite correct in calling Jemmy Shaw's (London) extraordinary little rat killer Jacko, a bull terrier, perhaps one-fourth bull. This historical creature died in 1869, and amongst other deeds he succeeded in killing sixty rats in 2min. 40sec. ; 100 rats in 5min. 28sec.; and 1000 rats in less than 1oomin.! winning altogether matches in different parts of the country.

These extraordinary feats were performed in 1862-63, and are supposed to be the best on record. Jacko was black and tan in colour, with a little white on his





his day.

chest, and he weighed 13lb. There were smaller dogs than he, which were kept more for fancy and as pets-still bull terriers, but, for the most part, white in colour. Billy Shaw, another noted fancier, had a brindled bull terrier called Pincher, about 25lb. weight, which killed 500 rats in 36min. 26 sec., the feat taking place at the Queen's Head Tavern, Haymarket, in March, 1865.

The popularity of the bull terrier was established fairly enough, and before the era of the fashionable and comely fox terrier he was no doubt the dog of

He could be obtained of any weight ranging between 8lb. and 55lb., and, although he had a reputation for pugnacity, this was more due to his surroundings than otherwise, though such as were trained to fight in the ring were as savage as savage could be. The historical dog of Bill Sykes, the typical burglar-ruffian, was a bull terrier, a thick heavy-headed creature, with bandy legs, a patch on his eye, and one or two on his body. “ William” did not like him all white; a pure dog in colour and reputation would be out of place in such company, and, perhaps for this reason, the more respectable and peaceable members of society, with a fondness for a

game terrier, preferred the entirely white dog; hence its popularity, and possibly the reason why only such came

to be looked upon as the genuine article. Still there were others which obtained a better education than the pugilist could give, and they were useful as companions and as watchdogs.

Most of us have owned a bull terrier. The undergraduates at Oxford and Cambridge were fond of him, and at one time he formed as much a part of their equipment as the "top hat" does at the present time. The first dog I ever possessed was a bull terrier, a fawn dog with a black muzzle, and about 30lb. in weight. He was a good-looking dog, though he cost but half-a-crown when a month old, purchased from a sporting barber, whose reputation for dogs was as high as that he possessed as a shaver.

The puppy, christened “Sam,” was for a long time my constant companion, and soon became an adept at hunting rats by the riverside, a capital rabbiter, and as good a retriever as most dogs. He would perform sundry tricks, find money hidden away, and could be sent back a mile for anything-a glove, a stick—that had been left behind. He would take part in a game at cricket, and fielded the ball so expeditiously that on more than one occasion Sam and I played single wicket matches against a couple of opponents, and as a rule came out successfully. Altogether this was a kind of dog

that could not be obtained now, but on his father's side he came of a fighting stock, and as he grew older he developed a love for a "turn up” with any passing canines, which caused me to part with him. He was the death of a couple of dogs, but otherwise the gentlest of the gentle ; our cat kittened in his kennel, and with a little shaggy dog belonging to a friend he struck up a great friendship. Prince, this cross-bred creatures's name, was one day turned over and worried by a big, ugly sheepdog. In canine language he came and told the story of his woe to Sam. The two set out together, and on our cricket field came across the bully. Prince and Sam went up to him, the latter, with his tail held stiff and looking savage, seized the sheepdog by the throat, threw him over by a fair buttock in the Cumberland and Westmoreland style of wrestling, then, turning his back on his fallen foe, raised one of his hind legs, and after treating him in the most disdainful manner possible, trotted off with his little friend.

Poor Sam! I even now think of him with regret. We had to part, and he was sent to Manchester to do duty as guard in a warehouse and shop. But the smoky Cottonopolis he did not like, nor the confinement; instead of snarling and barking at the tramps, he “canoodled ” with them, and made friends--as a watchdog he was useless. Perhaps

he pined for Prince and the cricket field, for the riverside and the country walks. He died of a broken heart.

This was more than thirty years ago, and friends of mine still tell me, “ You never had another dog like Sam,” or “ Sam was the best dog you ever had.” I knew another bull terrier about this period which would jump into the water off the highest bridge that could be found, and as a set off would put out the flame of a blazing newspaper, or crush a redhot cinder in his mouth-surely an apt pupil of the "asbestos man,” and of the “professors ” who dived into a tank from the top of the Westminster Aquarium. But such dogs as these were not show dogs, and, no doubt, exhibitions really made the bull terrier as he is to-day, and caused the almost total extinction of any other bull terrier excepting the white ones. Why white was eventually fixed upon as the correct colour I have already surmised, and as a rule modern specimens breed pretty truly to this hue, though cases of a coloured mark on the eye or on the ear crop up in nearly every litter. Usually such dogs were destroyed at their birth, as being unfitted for success on the bench, though instances will be mentioned later on where a So-called “patched” dog did a considerable amount of winning.

To the late Mr. James Hinks, of Birmingham, a

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