He has a jaw set with strength; an eye mild, but indicative of the fact that he does not want too many familiarities from strangers; a nostril large enough to snuff a wild duck across the meadows; knows how to shake hands, and can talk with head, and ear, and tail; and, save an unreasonable antipathy to cats, is perfect, and always goes with me on my walk out of town.
He knows more than a great many people.

Never do we take a walk but the poodles, and the rat-terriers, and the grizzly curs with stringy hair and damp nose, get after him.

They tumble off the front door step and out of the kennels, and assault him front and rear.

I have several times said to him (not loud enough for Presbytery to hear), "Nick, why do you stand all this?
Go at them!" He never takes my advice.

He lets them bark and snap, and passes on unprovokedly without sniff or growl.