tion to the dog; but by and by he was persuaded something was
wrong, and followed the dog to the pond. The little girl was not
drowned, though she was quite insensible; and the man lifted her from
the water, and saved her life, to the great joy of Rollo, who seemed
eager to assist in this enterprise.

Here is a capital story about a shepherd's dog in Scotland. I take the
liberty of borrowing it from Bingley's admirable book. The valleys, or
glens, as they are called by the natives, which intersect the Grampians,
a ridge of rocky and precipitous mountains in the northern part of
Scotland, are chiefly inhabited by shepherds. As the pastures over which
each flock is permitted to range, extend many miles in every direction,
the shepherd never has a view of his whole flock at once, except when it
is collected for the purpose of sale or shearing. His occupation is to
make daily visits to the different extremities of his pastures in
succession, and to turn back, by means of his dog, any stragglers that
may be approaching the boundaries of his neighbors.

[Illustration: EXPLOIT OF THE NEW ENGLAND DOG.]

In one of these excursions, a shepherd happened to carry with him one of
his children, an infant some two or three years old. After traversing
his pastures for some time, attended by his dog, the shepherd found
himself under the necessity of ascending a summit at some distance to
have a more extended view of his range. As the ascent was too fatiguing
for his child, he left him on a small plain at the bottom, with strict
injunctions not to stir from it till his return. Scarcely, however, had
he gained the summit, when the horizon was suddenly darkened by one of
those thick and heavy fogs which frequently descend so rapidly amid
these mountains, as, in the space of a few minutes, almost to turn day
into night. The anxious father instantly hastened back to find his
child; but, owing to the unusual darkness, and his own trepidation, he
unfortunately missed his way in the descent. After a fruitless search of
many hours among the dangerous morasses and cataracts with which these
mountains abound, he was at length overtaken by night. Still wandering
on, without knowing whither, he at length came to the verge of the mist,
and, by the light of the moon, discovered that he had reached the bottom
of the valley, and was now within a short distance of his cottage. To
renew the search that night was equally fruitless and dangerous. He was
t