THE DOGS OF ST. JEAN DE LUZ.
[To TEE EDITOR OF THE "SPECTATOR."]
SIR,—As one who has at least a bowing acquaintance with all the dogs to be met with in the streets of St. Jean de Luz,— in certain cases where they condescend to allow it, an intimacy, —from the rusty old seafaring retriever who begs so hard to have sticks thrown far into the surf for him to dash after, to the dainty black poodles at play in front of the grocer's shop in the Rue Gambetta. I must protest against your corre- spondent's assertion, so far at least as dogs are concerned, that "the Basques are callous, and we had almost said, lovers of animal suffering." To my mind, these dogs have on the whole as good a time as those in any town I know. It is quite true that there is an element of hardness in the Basque character which might lead him, I can well imagine, into acts of cruelty where his will was opposed, and in a country too where there is no public feeling at all against such things, but wanton cruelty is hardly a fair charge to make against him. Certainly he is fond of his own dogs, and the few obvious strays one meets and converses with in St. Jean de Luz are plump, and without signs of ill-treatment. The owner of the black poodles, the buxom mistress of the said little grocer's shop, used to sit knitting by her counter, watching delightedly the gambols of her darlings and their antics with admiring strangers. " Ah oui," she said once ; " je lea adore, lea chiens,—et aussi les bebes."—I am, Sir, &c.,
H. M. L. A.
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