4. The stop.

5. The skull.

6. Occipital bone.

7. Dewlap.

8. Front of chest.

9. Top of the shoulder.

10. Top of the hip.

11. Shoulder-blade.

12. The rump.

13. The arm.

14. The elbow.

15. The fore-arm.

16. The knee.

17. The stifle joint.

18. The hock.

19. The tail; called in some breeds the flag, in others the brush, and generally in sporting dogs the stern.

20. The chest.

21. The pastern.]

Nearly all dogs enjoy an occasional washing, and if they do not get it, their skin is apt to become foul, and vermin may collect, which will prove very troublesome and difficult to remove. When the dog is to be washed, get two large buckets full of soft water, a rough towel, and a cake of Spratt's soap, for which you may be obliged to send to a dog-fancier. The water in one bucket should be lukewarm, and that in the other cold. Tie the dog in the yard or on the gra.s.s under a tree, and begin by pouring a little of the warm water on his shoulder, at the same time rubbing on the soap. Keep on in this way until every inch of the dog's body is covered with a lather, washing the head last, and taking care not to let the soapy water get into either his eyes or ears.

After the dog is thus thoroughly covered with lather, wash it off with clean warm water, at the same time gently squeezing the hide and rubbing downward. When the soap is all rinsed off, dash a few dipperfuls of cold water over the dog, and rub his jacket briskly with the rough towel.

Then untie him and let him have a good run, after which, and when his coat is nearly dry, is the time to give him a thorough combing and grooming, carefully unravelling every bit of tangle or "mat" you may find in his feather. (The long hair of a dog is called his "feather,"

not feathers.)

In order that a dog may be kept in good health, his kennel requires frequent attention. Not only should the bedding be always sweet and dry, but the place should be occasionally scrubbed with soap and boiling water, and left to become thoroughly dry in the sun before it is again occupied.

If your dog has a collar--and every well-behaved dog deserves a pretty collar to wear when he goes out for a walk--be sure and take it off as soon as he comes in. Remember, also, that while the outside of the collar must be kept clean and bright in order to look well, it is very important for the good of the dog that the _inside_ should be kept clean as well, and not allowed to become foul.

A DINNER IN TOKIO.

Very strange dishes came upon the board at our New-Year's dinner at the hotel in Tokio. A preliminary pipe of mild tobacco was handed around.

The tobacco was too mild an affair altogether to take the edge off one's appet.i.te, if intended for that purpose. The first course consisted of sweetmeats, served upon lacquered plates. The whole meal was of a Frenchified character. b.a.l.l.s of golden, scarlet, and green jellies were among the things in this dish; rice, flour, and sugar made up the const.i.tuents of the other parts of it. Saki (rice spirit) and the ever-present tea were then served round. The second course consisted of soup, into which were shredded hard-boiled eggs. This was served in bowls, but without spoons. I had, however, my purchased spoon, fork, and knife always with me, and so escaped trouble. Then came a very strange dish: it was a collop cut from a living fish wriggling on the sideboard.

The j.a.ps are a great fish-eating folk, and this raw fish-eating is quite common. The steak cut for Bruce from the living ox, told of in his Abyssinian travels, occurred to one's memory. The live tidbit is supposed to be eaten with the j.a.panese "Soy"--a sauce that makes everything palatable--but I let my portion of it pa.s.s. It is not possible to comply with all j.a.panese fashions at once. Time is necessary to the acquirement of taste. Cooked fish was next served, and that in great variety, including sh.e.l.l-fish. A sort of lime or small lemon was used as the flavoring to this dish. Then came boiled beans, with ginger roots, and some fried fish and horse-radish. To follow that came boiled fish and clams, the latter cut up, and served with pears. Rice in tea-cups followed, and then a salad, and the dishes were ended. The hot saki and tea cups were sent round after each course. The health of our landlord was proposed in j.a.panese, and drunk in saki. He then rose to reply. I thought that he would never have done bowing before he began to speak. He appeared to speak very well, and easily.

MR. HARVEY'S HOUSEKEEPERS, AND NAN'S EXAMINATION-DAY.

BY E. COOMBS.

Of the four little housekeepers, Patty, the eldest, who was fifteen, was chief. Johnny came next. He was housekeeper number two. And then there was Katie, who was eleven, and Nan, nine. Their mother had died two years before, and when the housekeeper left, about a year afterward, Patty, in all the dignity of her fourteen years, decided to dispense with help in future, and that they could do the work among themselves.

Mr. Harvey was absorbed in his business, and never greatly disturbed by any irregularities in his household, provided the children were generally peaceable and happy.

So Patty's decision was allowed to stand. Housekeeping had seemed a very easy thing to her, as she had seen her mother go about quietly doing one thing after another, without hurry or confusion. But she found doing the same things herself to be another thing. Oh, the trouble they had with the cooking! The same fire that would not bake the biscuits burned the steak to a crisp. After repeated efforts and experiments, however, bread, steak, and potatoes that could be eaten appeared on the table.

Then they decided to try some cake. Patty, and Johnny, who was always ready to help, knit their brows and puzzled their brains over the recipes. Johnny volunteered to read the directions from the cook-book, while Patty measured and mixed the ingredients.

He read, "'Four eggs, two cups sugar--'"

"Stop, Johnny--don't read so fast. I wonder if the eggs ought to be beaten?"

"Course they ought to; sh'd think any goose'd know that," said Johnny, contemptuously.

"I don't believe they ought to be; the recipe doesn't say anything about beating." So the eggs were broken in with the sugar, and they were stirred together. Then the b.u.t.ter--a liberal quant.i.ty--and milk and flour. "'Two tea-spoons cream-tartar; flavor to taste,'" read Johnny.

At length the cake was in the oven, and they watched and waited for it to rise. But it never rose. The fire was made quick; then it was allowed to burn slower; still the cake was an inch below the top of the pan.

More than an hour pa.s.sed, then Patty took it from the oven. What could be the trouble? It was as heavy as lead. Johnny read the recipe over again carefully. "'One tea-spoonful soda'--that's the trouble, Pat; we forgot the soda."

Katie was the most unfortunate of the housekeepers. If she trimmed the lamps, she was sure to spill the oil; if she cooked the dinner, in spite of her wisest precautions it was sure to be burned. And Johnny used laughingly to warn her against looking at stakes, or nails, or twigs, as a rent in her dress was sure to be the result.

Then there was Nan. She did so hate dish-washing! Sometimes, if in the very midst of hot water and rattling crockery, she saw her girl friends outside at play, away she would go, not thinking again of her unfinished task until returning, perhaps half an hour afterward, she would find the towels wet and the water cold in the pan.

And it must be confessed that sometimes even Patty herself would drop her broom, and at the same time her dignity, and join the children, as eager as any of them, forgetful of the dinner hour and the uncooked dinner.

But the sewing--making the clothes--was the worst. Patty was so proud that she would not ask help from anybody--no, not if she ruined her eyes, and worked her fingers to the bone. Garments were picked to pieces, st.i.tch by st.i.tch, to learn how they were made. Dresses were puzzled over, and pulled this way and that; a little cut off here and a piece sewed on there to make them fit.

But now was coming the tug of war. In a week would be the examination at the grammar school to which Nan went, and she had not a thing fit to wear.

Patty wondered what she should do. She consulted her father.

"Why, buy her a dress," he said.

"But I can not buy one all made."

"Make her one, then," and he laid a crisp bill on the table.