It is one of those tastes that grows by indulgence: there is scarcely
any enjoyment so independent of the will of others: it engages and
employs the thoughts of the wretched, directs the enthusiasm of the
young, and relieves the weariness of old age. Well might the amiable
Fenelon say: "If the crowns of all the kingdoms of Europe were laid at
my feet, in exchange for my love of reading, I would spurn them all."
_Louisa_. Now, Ferdinand, I know you long to tell mamma your droll
story about the dog.
_Ferdinand_. Well, mamma, when we got into the garden, I was very much
amused with a nice little terrier, and Mrs. Horton said, she thought we
should be entertained with an anecdote or two she could tell us
respecting him. The dog belongs to her brother, who is an elderly
gentleman, and wears a wig. He used to keep one hung up on a peg in his
dressing-room, and, as it was grown very shabby, he one day gave it away
to a poor old man. The dog happened soon after to see him in the
street. He knew the wig again in a minute; and, looking full in the
man's face, made a sudden spring, leaped upon his shoulders, seized the
wig, and ran off with it as fast as he could; and, when he reached home,
endeavoured, by jumping, to hang it in its usual place.
_Mrs. B._ I think your story very amusing, Ferdinand: it is a curious
instance of sagacity.
_Emily_. The other circumstance which Mrs.
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