No. VII.-JULY.

"Then came hot Iuly boyling like to fire,
That all his garments he had cast away:
Upon a lyon raging yet with ire

He boldly rode, and made him to obay:
(It was the beast that whylome did forray

The Némæan forrest, till th' Amphitrionide
Him slew, and with his hide did him array:)
Behinde his backe a sithe, and by his side

Under his belt he bore a sickle circling wide.'

SPENSER.

HERCULES was quite a sportsman, going after large game, and the forerunner of our modern lion-hunters. But better still, when he literally hugged the Némæan lion to death the feat was celebrated for many years afterwards by games consisting of every kind of manly exercise. Spenser comes here quite apropos, therefore, into our little contribution towards the great value of physical exercises. It was by these, as well as by the study of philosophy, that Greece rose to her proud preeminence, and the laws of Nature are unchangeable.

July is a fine month, full of verdure, foliage, and summer delights. In Scotland, the evening skies towards the north-west, as seen from an elevated position with an extended range, present aerial scenes of shifting grandeur and magnificence, and representing seas, lakes, mountains, and further skies beyond, so vividly as almost to convince the eye in spite of the mind. The heat is greater than in June, because the earth has become

warm, so that this is also the best month in the year for bathing in rivers and at watering-places. Swimming is an exercise so valuable in many respects that we trust to soon see our civic authorities move themselves towards the construction of bathing-ponds. Glasgow possesses a site for such almost unrivalled; the low meadow or haugh forming part of the public Green, which, by a fortuitous formation, is admirably adapted for having a pond formed in it, with the water flowing from the Clyde into one end and out at the other, and serving as a bathing-pond in summer and for skating in winter. While lives are annually lost in dangerous places, such public ponds are a moral necessity.

This month has some peculiarities in weather; in it the dog-days begin, and St Swithin's day, ominous of rains, also falls within its course. Thunder storms are not unfrequent, with heavy floods, continuing into the following month, when they are termed the "Lammasfloods." Our yearly Saturnalia, Glasgow Fair, often suffers from these rains, and this is the more to be regretted that it is injurious to the enjoyment of the coast and country trips now so happily substituted for the less improving pleasures of our forefathers. Glasgow Fair is so often foul that it might not be inadvisable, in all seriousness, to make it fall upon an earlier week, to which we presume there are no serious fiscal objections.

The dog-days begin on the 3d of July and end on the 11th of August. They are so termed from a superstitious belief that the rising of Sirius, the dog-star, in the morning, had a powerful effect upon the sea, wine, dogs and animals generally. This is of course to be at once set

aside by the fact, that owing to the precession of the equinoxes, Sirius does not now rise in our latitude until the end of August. The sultry heat of the weather quite sufficiently accounts for the effects ascribed to the flaming dog-star. The phrase "dog-days" has, however, got a hold of the public mind, and much torture is inflicted on these generous animals by tightly muzzling them. It cannot be sufficiently made known that a dog perspires only through his mouth. In the hottest day, and under exercise, there is no appreciable perspiration by his skin, all the necessary escape for the maintenance of health is by the wide open mouth and lolling tongue. The muzzle also prevents a dog from drinking. He cannot suck in water like a horse, he must lap it with his tongue, and he is therefore deprived of this fluid just when he needs it most. Heat will not produce hydrophobia, but want of water may; thus it is said that cases of canine madness occur most frequently during the winter in Canada, with intense cold, because water is frozen up. We believe that genuine cases of hydrophobia are very rare, and that an aggravated form of distemper and subsequent fits arising therefrom are frequently mistaken for it. The subject is too painful for a work of this light and gossipping character, but the following concise remarks may be interesting and instructive.

When rabies or madness begins to affect a dog, he becomes fidgetty and restless, seeking out new restingplaces and continually changing them. He lies coiled up with his face buried between his paws. When he does rise he seems overwhelmed with wonder and surprise at some mysterious disease affecting him, and for which

he seems to go about inquiring a solution. He shows no tendency to bite, and becomes more than ever attached to his master, fawning about him and desirous of licking his hand. So far from showing a fear of water, his thirst becomes intense, and, if within his reach, he laps it in unusual quantities as long as the power of deglutition continues. But the distinguishing feature of the disease, showing its highly nervous character, is the dog's being evidently irritated by phantoms at which he flies and snaps with violent fury, and which his eye may be seen suspiciously to follow. He does not foam at the mouth as when suffering from a fit after distemper; this froth, the proof of the absence of rabies, being too often taken for that of its presence. On the contrary, the saliva

becomes thick and viscid.

Towards the termination of

the disease the appetite becomes depraved, any sort of disgusting garbage is devoured, and finally a phrenzy sets in, when the wretched animal tears and worries at everything within its reach, but swallows water greedily to the last. As the peculiar virus exists from an early period, long before disease is suspected, the popular delusion, that if a dog become mad after biting a man, the latter will also be seized with hydrophobia, may be accounted for, as many cases have occurred where neither the dog nor the person bitten has showed any symptoms for a considerable period afterwards. Immediate excision of the bitten part appears to be the only remedy or preventive.

The great dearth of sporting incidents during the present summer has drawn forth the remarks of other journalists

as well as ourselves.

It would appear as if the thick commercial cloud had thrown its deep shadow alike upon professions, trades, and even amusements. Railway receipts have fallen off to the tune of some £13,500 weekly —a vivid proof, at this especial season, of forced stay-athome habits. Country and coast houses are not well let, and the same may be said of many grouse-moors, for which in our experience there would have been positive competition. In fishing little has been done in this neighbourhood. Lochlomond is said to be full of sea trout, which, with an obstinacy of temper eminently self-preservative, seem resolved to remain there, judging by their refusal to be tempted by the most cunning lures. But a few years ago the Queen of Scottish lakes was sure of affording sport, and we very much fear that the abominable practice of fishing with the "lathe,” or "otter," so common there, is fatal to success in fair fishing. We respectfully draw the attention of Sir James Colquhoun of Luss to this remark. Unless legislative enactment more stringently represses otter-fishing, the days of the honest, kindly, old-fashioned angling are nearly numbered, except in remote districts beyond the reach of the city-pent multitudes, the very people who need and languish for fresh air. The father of the writer of these notes used to kill salmon regularly every season, with rod and line, above and below Rutherglen Bridge. Other causes have diminished the numbers of salmon; but not twenty years ago the writer could kill a few trout about Dalmarnock Bridge on almost any summer evening. To do so now is almost impossible. Otters and cross-lines are kept in continual play, and the fish are