Group Title: Snowflake series
Title: Hector the dog
Full Citation
Permanent Link:
 Material Information
Title: Hector the dog
Series Title: Snowflake series
Physical Description: 16 p. : ill. (some col.) ; 21 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Valentine, L ( Laura ), d. 1899
McLoughlin Bros., inc
Publisher: McLoughlin Bros.,
McLoughlin Bros.
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: 1889
Copyright Date: 1889
Subject: Dogs -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcshac )
Rescue dogs -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1889
Bldn -- 1889
Genre: Children's poetry
non-fiction   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
General Note: Cover title.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00054519
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: notis - AJT8731
alephbibnum - 001864247
oclc - 25381665

Full Text

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Man loves the dog, the dog loves man :
The dog is trusty, strong, and brave,
And God has on the dog bestowed
The power and will man's life to save.
And often has the tale been told,
How, borne along in eager strife,
While struggling hard to rescue man,
The noble dog has lost his life.

Eve, A storm is brewing, trust my word,-

leave. Come, friend, give up thy toilsome
*. .* 4.

But near the door the travler on Christoodmas Dark clouds are flitting o'er withe sky;

leav.' "Come, friend, give up thy toilsome

But near the door the traveler stood, And spend thy Christmas with us
Who with his host had earnest talk, here."
With knapsack girt and staff in hand, The landlord spoke with kindly voice,
All ready for a mountain walk. Himself a well-trained mountaineer.
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"Nay, press me not," the man replied; He long'd to spread before their gaze
I must get home by Christmas Day, The honest gains of many a year,
The mountain pass I know right well, Earn'd with hard toil for those he
Its hoary peaks and boulders gray. lov'd,
And guarded with a jealous care.
" Ten years ago I left my home
My fortune in the world to seek; His father, with his silver hair;
It seems to me a long, long time His mother, with her kind blue eyes:
Since last I saw these mountains His sisters, little playmates once,--
bleak. Would he their faces recognize?

,'I promised them that, come what Colder and colder blew the wind,
might, It whistled up the mountain-pass,
I would be home on Christmas Day; The blinding snow-storm flew before;
So farewell; may Gon's blessing be The ice was slippery as glass.
With me along my toilsome way."
Onward he went, but cautiously;
In the fast-fading evening light Surely I have not miss'd my way?
He then pursued his lonely road, The night grows dark, 'tis piercing
Onward and upward through the snow, cold :
Leaving behind him man's abode. Can I hold on till dawn of day?"

Above him rose the snowy peaks, And still he battled with the storm,
Still glowing white against the sky, That every moment fiercer grew,
And many a crevasse, deep and wide, And stronger came the dreadful thought
Around his path he could descry. That he the way no longer knew.

Upward and onward still he toil'd, And now his strength is ebbing fast;
His heart was beating loud and fast : His head is sinking on his breast.
He'd reach'd his own dear fatherland-- Oh! could he in that fearful storm
Danger and toil were well-nigh past. But find some shelter, gain some
He long'd to hear hisfather's voice,
His mother's kiss once more to feel, Happy for him that at that time,
And in the quiet restful home Alone upon the mountain-side,
With them once more in prayer to He knew that to his Father's love,
kneel. His life or death he might confide

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The eddying snow-wreath whirl'd around, It was the holy Christmas Eve,
Snow hid the path, snow filled the air. When joy in Cl I i-li homes should
He fell unconscious to the ground, be:
The object of a Father's care. And in this lonely monastery
Was friendly talk and quiet glee.
Above the smooth white-sheeted snow
The convent-walls rose dark and high, And truly none deserved it more
And bright the clear, cold stars looked Than these lone men of lowly mind,
down Who, in their Master's steps to tread,
From out the wind-swept winter sky. Had left the pleasant world behind.

The stately shadows, broad and dark, That was a scene for painter's art,
Lay stretch'd along the mountain-side, Those men so calm, so free from
And through the narrow windows strife,
gleam'd Who bore upon each rugged face
The blazing logs of Christmas-tide. The impress of a noble life.



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Nor men alone composed the group : No, surely : not in sinful ease
Four dogs, of pure St. Bernard The daily life of each was spent,
blood, But to fight hand in hand with Death
Or slept unconscious on the hearth, Each nerve was strained, each power
Or by their masters proudly stood ; bent.

Calm, lofty, steadfast, great and strong, For here, amongst the snow and ice,
A picture of the mountains round; The everlasting winter cold,
Both dogs and masters in one tie Full many a weary traveler
Of kindly brotherhood fast bound. Had died unknown since days of old.

What was their life? had selfish aim And so to seek and save the lost
Enticed them to this lonely spot; These men and dogs were living here;
Life's toil and burden to escape, Bravely they daily risked their lives,
Its battle-field to enter not. Nor e'er gave way to thought of fear.


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Vespers are over. In the hall So, taking hatchets, torches, ropes,
The monks are gathered round the The monks and dogs together went;
board They make towards the mountain pass,
To celebrate the joyful feast And soon the dogs are on a scent.
With the best cheer their stores
afford. Smelling and sniffing through the storm,
Their noble heads bent to the snow,
The noble dogs are feasting now,
Fed with kind hands and loving care:
For if they share their masters' toils
Their joys and feasts they also share. -
.- '. _.," '" '

Brethren and friends," the Prior said, Full sure, I guess, -said Brother
a *,*' *' .

"The night grows wild, the storm Ralpli,
ets hi Some traveler is out to-ght,

The dogs are restless; some must go, And sure I am that for his life
If help is needed, to be nigh. With storm and snow he'll have to
" This night we'll sing our hymn to Go
With shepherds and the angelic host; And if but once lie miss the path,
But you will praise whilst yet you serve Hard by the precipice which winds,
And by the serving praise Him A fearful t e stalwart monks,
most. The mailed traveler that findsgo.
"Brethren and friends," the Prior said, Full sure, I guess, "said Brother
"The night grows wild, the storm Ralpho,
gets high, Soni traveler is out to-night,
The dogs are restless; some must go, And sure I am that for his life
If help is needed, to be sigh. With storm and snow he'll have to
"This night we'll sing our hymn to Gon
With shepherds and the angelic host; "And if but once he miss the path,
But you will praise whilst yet you serve I-ard by the precipice which winds,
And by the serving praise I-ini A fearful sight 'twill be for him
most." The mangled traveler that finds.


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But, see, the dogs are on the track ; The brothers pause, and peering down,
See how with one consent they go; Each grasps the other as he stands;
They've turned the point, they're out of The noble hounds will do till death
sight : What their life-saving law commands.
First one and then the other down
The monks rush on with breathless, That fearful steep, with shuddering
speed, cry,
All on the strain, no word they say; They creep, they cringe, they bound,
But as they breast the storm-blasts' they roll,
rage, And now on snow-slip swiftly fly.
With silent earnestness they g ; E he s nosl takes a ha trn
They turn the point, and down below And lands them on the icy sea,
The eager, striving dogs they see, And sharp glad barking upward send
All on a narrow ledge that hangs The tidings of their victory.
Projecting o'er the icy sea.
ut as thAnd thanks to GoD the storm is past
There's one way down, but e'en in light, The gentle moon gives out her light
When all is calm, on summer's day, To guide their footsteps down each steep,
While in pursuit of mountain goat, And aid heir swing from height to
The hunter dreads that dizzy way. height.


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They reach at length the sea of ice, .
Three dogs come bounding to their
side :
The fourth, brave Hector, where was he
Hurl'd by the avalanche's slide?
Hector they seek, with whine and cries;
Anxious and eager rush the dogs They scratch the appalling mound
To where a face of hopeful glow of snow,
And firm resolve, in death-like swoon, Which, loosened from the mountain-
Peers upward from the open'd snow. side,

What dogs could do these dogs have Had swept them with it down below.
done; Vain work for dogs! vain work for men!
Man's skill and care must do the rest; Thousands of tons of ice and snow,
And sooner far than could be thought Heap'd up in one vast funeral pile
Their efforts with success were blest. Poor Hector hold entombed below.

But other cares await them now Alas! poor Hector! Gone for him
No sooner had they shown the man, Those scampers on the mountain side,
Then, darting off with eager haste, Where to lead men from height to height
The hounds to farther distance ran. Still upward, was his joy and pride.


Gone the sweet smell of pine-clad hill, Then on, with heavy hearts, and slow,
The bright blue sky, the sunny slope, They bear with toil the rescued man,
The torrent's roar, the eagle's cry, Mounting still upward to the height
The foes with which he used to cope. From whence their steep descent
For winter oft would send the wolf began.
To prowl among the flocks below, And slow, and hanging low their heads,
And oft the bear would seek the herds As if oppress'd by sense of shame
That shudder'd on their path of snow. Mingled with grief, the noble hounds
In silence to the convent came.
Then mighty courage filled the heart
Of Hector, bravest of the brave There watchful care attends the couch
And forth he rushed, with eager haste, Where rests the traveler returned,
The trembling flocksand herds to save. And swift feet carry to his home
Good news of one they might have
But now no more his work is done ; mourn'd.
The dog has met a hero's end !
With deep drawn sigh the brethren But as each Christmas-tide returned,
mourn And still he toil'd in life's rough way
Their mute companion and their With thankful praise he join'd in thought
friend. Hector, the dog, and Christmas Day.

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