ock, and just as another dog will defend his master, so will
these the sheep. It is amusing to observe, when approaching a flock,
how the dog immediately advances barking, and the sheep all close in
his rear, as if round the oldest ram. These dogs are also easily
taught to bring home the flock at a certain hour in the evening. Their
most troublesome fault, when young, is their desire of playing with
the sheep; for, in their sport, they sometimes gallop their poor
subjects most unmercifully. The shepherd dog comes to the house every
day for some meat, and immediately it is given him he skulks away as
if ashamed of himself. On these occasions the house-dogs are very
tyrannical, and the least of them will attack and pursue the stranger.
The minute, however, the latter has reached the flock, he turns round
and begins to bark, and then all the house-dogs take very quietly to
their heels. In a similar manner, a whole pack of hungry wild dogs
will scarcely ever venture to attack a flock when under the protection
of even one of these faithful shepherds.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: ST. BERNARD DOG.]

THE ST. BERNARD DOG.

"Thrill sounds are breaking o'er the startled ear,
The shriek of agony, the cry of fear;--
And the sad tones of childhood in distress,
Are echoing through the snow-clad wilderness!
And who the first to waken to the sound,
And quickly down the icy path to bound;
To dare the storm with anxious step and grave,
The first to answer and the first to save?--
'T is he--the brave old dog, who many a day
Hath saved lost wand'rers in that dreary way;
And now, with head close crouched along the ground,
Is watching eagerly each coming sound.
Sudden he starts--the cry is near--
On, gallant Bruno!--know no fear!
On!--for that cry may be the last,
And human life is ebbing fast!
And now he hurries on with heaving side,
Dashing the snow from off its shaggy hide;--
He nears the child!--he hears his gasping sighs,
And, with a tender care, he bears away the prize."
MRS. HOUSTOUN.

Sir Walter Scott said that he would believe anything of a St. Bernard
dog. Their natural sagacity is, indeed, so sharpened by long practice
and careful training, that a sort of language is established between
them and the good monks of St. Bernard, by which mutual communications
are made, such as few