THE FIREMEN’S DOG.

About three years ago, a gentleman, residing a few miles from the metropolis, was called up to town in the middle of the night, by the intelligence that the premises adjoining his house of business were on fire. The removal of his furniture and papers of course immediately claimed his attention; yet, notwithstanding this and the bustle which is ever incident to a fire, his eye every now and then rested on a dog, whom, during the hottest progress of the devouring element, he could not help noticing running about, and apparently taking a deep interest in what was going on, contriving to keep himself out of every body’s way, and yet always present amidst the thickest of the stir.

When the fire was got under, and the gentleman had leisure to look about him, he again observed the dog, who, with the firemen, appeared to be resting from the fatigues of duty, and was led to make some inquiries respecting him. What passed may perhaps be better told in its original shape of question and answer between the gentleman and a fireman belonging to the Atlas Insurance Office.

Gentleman.—(stooping down to pat the dog, and addressing the fireman).—Is this your dog, my friend?

Firemen.—No, sir, he does not belong to me, or to any one in particular. We call him the firemen’s dog.

Gentleman.—The firemen’s dog! Why so? has he no master?

Fireman.—No, sir, he calls none of us master, though we are all of us willing enough to give him a night’s lodging and a pennyworth of meat; but he won’t stay long with any of us; his delight is to be at all the fires in London, and, far or near, we generally find him on the road as we are going along, and sometimes, if it is out of town, we give him a lift. I don’t think there has been a fire for these two or three years past which he has not been at.

The communication was so extraordinary, that the gentleman found it difficult to believe the story, until it was confirmed by the concurrent testimony of several other firemen; none of them, however, were able to give any account of the early habits of the dog, or to offer any explanation of the circumstances which led to this singular propensity. A minute of the facts was made at the time by the inquirer, with a view to their transmission to some of the journals or periodicals, which publish anecdotes of natural history of animals; but other things interfered, and the intention was lost sight of.

In the month of June, last year, the same gentleman was again called up in the night to a fire in the village in which he resided, Camberwell in Surrey, and to his surprise here he again met with “the firemen’s dog,” still alive and well, pursuing with the same apparent interest and satisfaction, the exhibition of that which seldom fails to bring with it disaster and misfortune, oftentimes loss of life and ruin. Still he called no man master, disdained to receive bed or board from the same hand more than a night or two at a time, nor could the firemen trace out his ordinary resting-place.

The foregoing account is strictly true, and the truth may be ascertained by inquiry of any of the regular firemen of the metropolis. But who of those best acquainted with the habits of that most sagacious of our quadrupeds shall offer an explanation of the “hobby” of the firemen’s dog?

⁂ We insert this extraordinary story upon the authority of a Correspondent who gives us his name and address.