I now come to my contributors' notes, which read as follows:

CAPTAIN GRAHAM.-Some of the best specimens of the present day are satisfactory, but, generally speaking, there is a want of size and substance. Also evidence of the Great Dane cross is too pronounced in some specimens.

MR. GERARD.—I am satisfied with type, but I consider that action and all-round good movement are not sufficiently taken into consideration.

MR. I. W. EVERETT.-The type is rapidly getting more regular. Great care should be exercised in selecting sound, big-boned, typical sires (not necessarily tall), and raking, long dams with body and limb formation of the best. There does not seem to be anything like sufficient importance attached to heart and lung room, and if no decided move is made in that direction, there can be little chance of improvement in that almost vital point. I think we should also take a very much firmer stand on the subject of sound and well formed legs, feet, loins, and hindquarters generally, as the breed is essentially a galloping one, and derives most of its speed from its hindquarters. In point values more should be given to sound-limbed dogs (both sexes), as there are both dogs and bitches, well up in the prize lists, that, in my opinion, owing to unsoundness and bad formation of limbs, should not rightly be there. Dogs of this breed should be made to both walk and trot when being judged, which unfortunately is very often omitted.

MR. WALTER ALLEN.-In my opinion the chief fault is the want of uniformity in type, which time will remedy. Some of the best specimens are lacking in coat, and breeders should give this point more thought when selecting a sire.

MR. WALTER WILLIAMS.-There are too many types. Owners should endeavour to breed from sires and dams of the approved type only.

MISS AITCHESON.-I think the breed still lacks uniformity,so many are either too shaggy, or show too much of the Great Dane in type and coat.

OTHER FANCIERS (who desire to remain incognito).—I consider the question of type a difficult one to answer, as it varies so much under different judges. I think we now go in too much for size, instead of insisting on soundness and freedom in action. Dogs with crooked legs are awarded prizes, and half-bred boarhounds, with short bodies and out at elbows are

passed, if above the average height. I am not quite satisfied with type. I think a great deal more attention should be paid to shape of head, which is too often inclined to be Roman or snipey; and the ears require much more careful attention. The ear is a great beauty when it is small and carried lightly. In point values I do not think enough is given for legs and hindquarters, which are very bad in some winners.-Heavy leathers spoil a lot of hounds, and the greyhound carriage of the ear is the exception, not the rule. Many of the hindquarters are as bad as in St. Bernards. But the youngsters coming on are a distinct improvement upon the older generation, and when judges have the courage to put down some of the patriarchs, and put up some of the young 'uns that are much their superiors, we shall have breeders going to these young dogs, and the logical result will be an improvement in the pups born. The judge who gives a championship to an unsound dog probably does more harm to a breed at large than he can be conscious of. It is hopeless to expect the average exhibitor and breeder to go to the dog that suits his bitch; he must go to a champion if he wants to sell his stock, and he does so in the face of the miserable wastrels that are often produced by such unions. There are many better dogs for breeding than some of those at stud, and not until breeders are guided solely by soundness in the first instance (of course avoiding mongrels) will the breed assume the place those who love it ought to desire to see it in—namely, amongst the sound breeds of dogs. Breeders should go steady for a generation or two, and get the breed sound before they seek to elaborate points. And for height, I consider that the struggle after it is the curse of the breed at present. The taller some of them grow, the more wobbly they become.

Personally, I am inclined to think some of the above strictures a little hard, though I agree with the last writer that, as a breed, the present generation is superior to the last one. But with regard to diversity in type, to which so many make reference, I consider that the Irish wolf-hound has reached a development wherein there is less diversity than in most other breeds, and that you could parade the leading specimens in a pack, and create a conviction in the eyes of people, not expert, that they were not only all of one breed, but that they

were unlike any other breed. The sternness of the judicial note has been pleasantly counterbalanced by the sympathy of the remarks that apply to the breed from the dog-lover's rather than the dog-fancier's point of view. Here everything is in its favour, as witness: "The Irish wolf-hound combines the best characteristics of all the large breeds of dogs. He is gentle, forgiving, plucky, most faithful, gifted with a wonderful memory, whilst his keen sense of humour and almost human intelligence makes him a perfect companion and guard." "The noblest dogs living. They are the largest, and at the same time combine size with gracefulness. Most affectionate and quiet, with perfect tempers, they are perfect gentlemen in every sense of the word."—" Why do I prefer it to other breeds? Because I am an Irishwoman, and an Irishwoman cannot but love the Irish hound."—" They extort admiration, confer distinction, are invaluable to a lady unprotected, and cannot be stolen."" To me the great fascination of the Irish wolf-hound lies in the nobleness both of his disposition and appearance, and his absolute single-mindedness in his devotion to his one human friend, though courteous, even friendly, to all well-behaved specimens of humanity. He is courageous, but not quarrelsome, with nothing small or mean about him; marvellously intelligent in understanding the speech and actions of so-called superior beings (ourselves), and has a very keen sense of humour. A perfect companion, faithfully shadowing, yet never obtrusive. His good traits are innumerable, and I don't know a bad one. His natural sense of honour and obedience render him, with all his strength and keenness, very easy to control."—"The great pleasure in keeping this breed is, to my mind, derived from its beautiful and majestic appearance, and its affectionate and companionable disposition. Usually peaceable, it

can acquit itself with courage, and in foreign countries to which it has been exported, has proved itself a fine hunting hound."-" The king of all dogs, and in disposition there is absolutely no other to equal it."—" It has always been my idea of the grandest dog known to mankind for almost every reason, and has had the whole of my attention for the past forty years."

It has been objected to the modern wolf-hound that he is not sufficiently agile and active. This is certainly true of him in the show-ring, where he has not room to stretch himself. But those intimately acquainted with the breed are perfectly satisfied with his speed, jumping powers, and endurance. Major Shewell's pack (he tells me) put up an inconsequent buck, irrelevantly browsing in the suburbs of Cheltenham, whither it had strayed from a contiguous park. The hounds sighted it, ran it close for 6 miles, when it had the bad taste to disappear over some park palings about 8 feet high, which obstructed the hounds that had taken several five-barred gates in their stride. Mrs. Gerard mentions an instance when her life was probably saved by her beautiful hound Rajah of Kidnal and his brother Rashleigh. During a country walk one day she was attacked and thrown to the ground by a savage sow; her hounds immediately tackled it, and made it very sorry for itself, whilst their mistress effected her escape. Finn, the heaviest dog in the breed, was a demon to cats and rats, and old Bran II. was a famous ratter, and killed one in his kennel the evening before his death. I do not instance these as acts of prowess, but as acts requiring agility. My own dogs accounted for many a rabbit, and I never observed any lack of activity in them; but the quick turning incident to such chases is risky, and I know of two hounds which met their death by overreaching themselves in awk

ward twists and breaking their backs. Wolfe O'Brien, although he hated being weighed, was so consumed with a sense of duty that he always elevated himself, with an injured look on his face, on the luggage-weighing platforms at the railway stations he visited, long after his first year's monthly record was completed. More than once I have missed him, only to find him glued to a machine, appealing to the crowd around to weigh him quick and get it over. He was an adept at shamming, and conscious, I am sure, that indisposition led to better fare; for he often used to pretend to be feeling "a bit off," with a view to a treat for dinner. The reference above to Rajah of Kidnal reminds me that I ought to mention he was an Irish wolfhound presented to the Irish Guards by the Irish Wolf-hound Club, as a regimental pet, at the Kennel Club Show of 1902. He now proudly precedes the regiment on the march, and has an uncommonly good time of it.

In the following description I have attempted to depict

AN IDEAL IRISH WOLF-HOUND.--He was born, christened "Wolfe Terror," and died at the early age of six months. Many tears were shed over his premature departure to that other land, wherein I trust he will experience the consolation so touchingly predicted by Luther in the apostrophe-" Be comforted, little dog! Thou, too, in the Resurrection shalt have a golden tail!"

I used to picture what he would grow into; it is all cut and dried in my recollection. As a puppy he was as near perfection as he could be, and dowered so often with the following good qualities in anticipation, that I can recall them as if they had been facts.

He was that puppy "Perfection," which, alas, we have nearly all bred and buried, loved and lost once in our kennel experience. A giant in size ("gentle when stroked, fierce when provoked "— as the old couplet runs), standing almost 36 inches at the shoulder, measuring 8 feet from the nose to the tip of the tail, girthing 40 inches, and weighing 150 lbs.

His colour was the grey of a thunder-cloud, shading to black