While researching for my book, I found this delightful story in the Homes and Habitats of Blandford [MA] by Sumner Gilbert Wood. Mr. Morton was the minister in Blandford for twenty years, and it was a very stormy, patience-teaching for Mr. Morton, relationship with his congregation. Obviously, as this story points out, his dog was another patience teacher. P. 29-30 (1760s) "One Sunday when "Priest Morton," as he was sometimes called, was going up to meeting, he was overtaken by his dog, Bunce, who he called "Boonce." Presently the family pet took after some sheep. the minister called, "Boonce! Boonce! come oot Boonce! This was repeated over and over without result. Boonce still continued to run after the sheep. Then---"I wish I was tunder, Boonce: I would hit you, clap arter clap, till I knocked your cussed damn brains oot!" This pet was a mischievous fellow, wand was held under strict surveillance, particularly on Sunday. One other morning of the holy day Boonce was let out of the house in meeting time by the minister's daughter, who was reputed to be a 'non-composer,' to use a phrase common according to the Leather-Stocking Tales, and had to be kept at home from meeting. It was she who let the dog out. At once he made tracks for the meeting house and ran straight up to the pulpit to greet his reverence. How he managed to outwit the diligence of the tithingman the story saith not. Perhaps it was during the period when minister and tithingman had their differences over rewards for catching deserters--for such differences there had been--and the guardian for good order was willing just then to overlook some things. It needs no lively fancy to picture the glee of the boys and girls and the consternation of the elders . The preacher paused" "Get out, you damned cur," he ejaculated, "how came you here?" cur: mongrel or inferior dog Peggy J. Knox Descendent Wm Knox of Blandford