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HERRING AND LANDSEER.
TWELVVE PICTURES PRINTED IN COLOURS BY J. BUTTERFIELD.
WITH DESCRIPTIVE LETTERPRESS.
FREDERICK WARNE AND CO.,
BEDFORD STREET, STRAND.
THESE famous pictures of Horses and Dogs, by Herring
and Landseer, having ceased to be copyright, the Publishers are
enabled to offer them in their present form to their young
Readers; trusting that the influence for good which they are
thought to have exercised over grown-up people, by their beauty
and significance, may extend in a yet larger circle, and have an
abiding power for good, by inspiring children with kindness and
affection for our four-footed friends.
THE CAVALRY HORSE.
W\ HHO does not love horses? All boys and girls, I am
sure, from little baby who delights in watching the
"Gee-gees," as he calls them, to John and Mary, who ride on
their little Shetland ponies by papa's side. They will all like to
look at these pictures, and read about the horses they see in them.
This is a Cavalry Horse. "Cavalry" means soldiers who fight
on horseback. This horse belongs to a brave soldier, who fought
for us in India and in the Crimea. Look at its eye; how full
of courage it looks. It loves the sound of the trumpet, and
will keep in its place, and do all it ought to do at every
trumpet call, even if it has no rider. We were in India once
just before a great battle, and we saw what is called a review
on the great plains there. A review is like playing at war;
the soldiers go through all the movements that they would make
in a real battle. Well, there were a great many soldiers there,
and in riding very hard one of them was thrown off. The
horse had no rider, but he did everything the other horses did,
and was in his place all through the review. We know a horse
which was in a great many battles; he belongs to a friend of
ours who is a brave soldier. This horse went through the war
with Russia, and now, on grand occasions, he wears medals,
like the good soldier he is; and when the brave men who fought
in those wars had a dinner at the Alexandra Palace, Arab was
sent there for people to see. He quite knows that he is admired,
and tosses his head when you look at his medals. He is a bay
horse-that is, of a reddish-brown colour. The horse in the
picture is white, you see. It is very gentle, as all brave boys
and horses are.
THE FARMER'S HORSE.
T HIS is the Farmer's Horse Rufus. He carries his master
to market at a good pace every market day, and some-
times a little way after the hounds when there is a meet near
Dash, the dog by his side, is a great friend of his; they
are generally to be found together, and Rufus is also very fond
of the cat, which always sleeps in his manger; but when he
wishes to eat some oats, he takes her gently by the skin of the
neck and drops her into the next stall till he has had a good
feed. He is very glad to see her back again when he has had
Now I must tell you a story about a farmer's horse. The
farmer lived close by the New Forest-a great wood near the sea,
in Hampshire. Nearly five miles off, across the sea, is the Isle
of Wight. The farmer went one day to a town there, called
Newport, and bought a horse. He put it into a passage-boat
and took it across to his own farm, where it was turned into
one of his fields. But next morning it was gone, and no one
had seen it; he looked everywhere for it, but could not find
it, so he thought it must have been stolen.
Soon after, the farmer had to go again to the Isle of Wight,
and he called on the man from whom he had bought the horse
to tell him of his loss. To his great surprise, the man said,
"The horse is not lost; it came back to us the next day!
it swam across the water to its old home."
The animal had swum nearly five miles to return to his dear
master. Then his master gave the farmer back his money, and
said he could not send away such a faithful friend.
We think Rufus would do just the same if his master sold
him. 'Do not you ?
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THE SHOOTING PONY.
yOU will see at once that this is a picture of a Shooting Pony.
His name is Jumper; and he is so tame and fond of his
master, that he will come at a call or whistle, and rub his head
against his master's shoulder, and push his nose into the pocket
of his shooting-jacket, to see if he can find a lump of sugar, of
which he is very fond, and which he often finds there.
He enjoys going out shooting as much as his master and
Rover do; and when he feels the keen fresh October air, he
tosses his mane and prances about; and when Rover runs and
jumps up at him, he puts down his nose in the most friendly way.
His master is very fond of Jumper-and, indeed, he well
may be,-for, once he had an accident with his gun, which went
off and shot him; and while he lay on the grass unable to move,
Jumper went off home as fast as he could, while Rover sat by
his poor young master to watch and take care of him.
When Mr. Grey's brother saw Jumper coming up the carriage
drive very fast without his rider, he guessed something had hap-
pened; so he jumped on the pony's back, and laid the rein on
his neck, and Jumper took him at once to the place where his
master lay. Was not that good of him ? And I must tell you
also-it is quite true-that Jumper opened the latch of the gate
into the grounds himself, as he often did if he found it shut.
It was very lucky for Arthur Grey that he had such a clever
pony; for the place where his gun went off was very lonely, and
he might have lain there for hours without being found.
But, then, Arthur had been very kind to him. He never
spurred him, or whipped him hard, or made him play Polo; and
he talked to him, and petted him, so Jumper loved him, as all
things will love us if we are kind to them.
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THE POSTMAN'S HORSE.
THIS is the Postman's Horse. In London, postmen walk;
they do not want horses, but in country places where the
houses are a great way apart, and the postman has to go down
long lanes and over moors for many miles, he must of course
ride. He goes to many scattered villages and to country houses,
and cottages far from the wayside.
The squire sends a leather bag for his letters, of which he
keeps one key, and the post-office has another. The post-office
people put in his letters and lock them up, and they cannot
be taken out again till the squire unlocks the bag himself.
The postman has his own bags also, and he carries back the
squire's with the letters to go by next post.
The postman, you see in the picture, is gone into the ser-
vants' hall for a glass of ale, and has left the letter-bags on the
steps. But they are quite safe, for Punch, his dog, is taking
care of them; and we do not think that the horse would let
any one come near them, if Punch warned him by barking-
he would kick out at once. The Postman's Horse is named
Jock; for the postman is a Scotchman, and Jock is much the
same name in Scotland that John is with us.
Jock is a faithful animal and loves his master. Every one
who lives in that part of the country is glad to see Jock, who
carries (we hope) good news on his back: letters from little
boys at school to papa and mamma, and some from grown-up
sons and daughters far away, to their dear parents. Ah! Jock
does not know that he carries both sorrow and joy on his back.
At Christmas he will be sure to bring pleasant letters-to
say that the boys are coming home for the holidays; and, we
hope, bringing a good report from their masters; then I am sure
mamma will be glad to see the Postman's Horse.
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THE DRAY HORSE.
THE Dray Horse, Dobbin, is a very strong animal; as,
indeed, he ought to be, for he and his companions have
to pull a great weight casks of beer are very heavy, you know.
We think he looks tired now; he has just been taken out of
the shafts. Look how still he stands. But, perhaps, he is
afraid of treading on the ducks ; for horses are very kind
animals generally, and are careful not to hurt anything. In this
they set a good example to children.
The Dray Horse, poor fellow, does a great deal of hard
work very patiently, and is grateful for a good feed when his
work is done. Man would sadly miss this useful animal, which
helps him so much in his work, if horses were to die off.
The ducks, standing safely by Dobbin's great hoofs, put me
in mind of a story about a horse, which Gilbert White tells us
in a pretty book he wrote.
A horse and a hen lived together in an orchard, where they
saw no animal but each other, except the birds. The fowl
would go up to the horse with a friendly cackle, and rub itself
gently against his legs; while the horse would look down at
it as if he were pleased, and would move with the greatest care
so that he might not tread on his little friend.
Horses also become much attached to each other. There
is a story told of two cavalry horses in the old French war,
one of which was shot in battle. The horse accustomed to
fight by his side, would not eat-was always turning his head
as if looking for his companion-pined away and died.
This Dray Horse is very fond of the animal that is put next
to him; and they work much better together, than when they
are used apart. It is pleasant to know that so much affection
is shown by animals.
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THE BROUGHAM HORSE.
pRINCE, our Brougham Horse, is a very handsome animal,
and is much admired when he trots in the park. He is
very good-natured, and is great friends with Trim, our dog. I
must tell you a story about them.
Trim once, running in a thicket, caught his foot in a snare
set for rabbits. After a great deal of pulling he broke the snare,
but a great piece of wire remained on his leg, and he could only
limp along on three paws. In a paddock close by Prince was
feeding. Trim ran up to him and barked. Prince put down his
head to the dog, who licked his face, and then held up his hind
leg with a pitiful whine. Prince instantly tried to take off the wire
with his teeth quite understanding, you see, what his friend
meant-but the poor horse could not get it off. Luckily, the
groom came up-wondering what the horse and dog were doing
-and took off the wire; but, you see, Prince kindly did the
best he could.
Horses feed on corn and hay, beans, and white peas, and
clover, &c., &c.; but they are all better for a feed in a fresh green
When the horse dies, his skin makes leather; and every
part of him is of use.
The horse is found all over the world, and is a good friend
to man. We ought always to treat him kindly.
This story is taken from "Jesse's Gleanings."
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LAYING DOWN THE LAW.
H ERE is a wise Dog laying down the law. We called him
Snow, because his fur is as white as snow-flakes. He
has never been known to do an unjust thing since we have
had him. Indeed, the way in which he barks at bad people,
and tries to defend helpless little ones from being hurt, proves
that he is quite worthy of the place he fills-in grandpapa's
How wise he looks! and a little cross, too, as if he were
vexed that all Dogs are not as good as himself, and that
there are so many troublesome Cats about.
He is quite ready to lay down the law to them all; and
if he could speak -- as we all wish he could I think he
would lay it down thus: Dogs, be honest and faithful; do
not steal bones; and love your master. Pussies, try to be
like us Dogs; don't scratch, and make loud noises; catch
mice, and keep in your place." While to little children Judge
Snow's law would be: Be kind to your four-footed friends;
give a faithful Dog a bone, and a biscuit now and then; and
never let Baby hurt him by pulling his tail! The great law
is to be kind to everything that the good GOD has made."
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H AFED is a noble hound, of whom we are all proud; he is
so gentle, strong, and fleet. Even baby loves Hafed,
and will often lie down by his side, and put her little head on
him, and go to sleep; and Hafed will remain without moving
till she wakes.
Hafed is much loved by papa and mamma, because he once
did a wonderful thing. When our brother George was very
little, he, one day, ran away from nurse, and went out of the
gate, and down the lane which leads to the common, where
some gipsies had their camp. These wicked people, seeing
that he had nice clothes on, stole him and hid him in their
Luckily, Hafed had run after him. When the good hound
saw that his little playfellow was shut up crying, by an old
woman, he barked very loud; and as he was a valuable Dog,
no doubt the gipsies tried to catch him, and tie him up; but
he escaped, and went home as fast as he could. He found
papa in the grounds, and he barked, and pulled at his arm,
trying all he could to make his master understand that George
was lost. But papa did not know what the Dog meant, till
nurse came crying to tell him that she could not find the little
Then he guessed what Hafed meant, and said, "Find,
good Dog!" and Hafed led him straight to the common, but by
that time the gipsies were gone. However, Hafed soon scented
out the way by which they had travelled, and never ceased
running till he had led papa, and some men who had joined
him in the village, to the place where George was.
Thus the little boy was found, and brought home, and Hafed
was wild with joy when papa patted and praised him, and
mamma did the same. He did not let George out of his sight
for some time afterwards. The wicked gipsies were put in
prison, of course, and we have called Hafed "The Children's
Friend" ever since.
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DOGS, like children, grow like those they live with. That
is why Toby, the butcher's Dog, is not at all like Judge
Snow. He certainly is a vulgar Dog--not because he lives
in a butcher's shop in the village, but because he has such
rude ways. Look at his tongue put out, and his eye winking,
as if he were making fun of us! I don't think he cares the
least whether we think him a vulgar dog or not! I am not sure
that he does not think it fun to make us laugh at his rudeness.
But Toby is not a bad Dog, though he does put out his
tongue. He takes great care of his master's shop, and never
touches the meat himself if he is ever so hungry. He is taking
care now of the butcher's mug and pipe; and if any one offered
to touch them, Toby would fly at him. The mug and pipe
look as if they belonged to himself, don't they ? Perhaps Toby
fancies they do, and that he is very like his master, whom he
thinks the grandest man in the village, and whom he loves with
a faithful love that nothing can change.
Low life has its virtues. Toby is, as we have said, honest
and faithful. He has, also, a great deal of courage. He is
afraid of nothing-not even of a great bull.
Once, as the butcher was coming home from market, where
he had sold a great deal of meat, and had put a good deal of
money in his pocket, some thieves met him in a lonely place,
and tried to take his purse from him. He would have been
robbed, and perhaps very much hurt, only Toby happened to be
with him, and flew at the men so fiercely, and bit them so hard,
that they were obliged to run away; for Toby did not care for
their kicks or blows when he was fighting for his dear master.
Ever since that time the village people have rather spoiled
Toby, so he has grown a little impudent. Once a high wind
blew off an old gentleman's hat in the village; Toby picked it
up in his mouth, and ran away with it, and the gentleman ran
after him and called him back; but Toby made him go a great
way before he put the hat down. The children laughed, and
Toby thought it fun; but his master beat him for that rude trick.
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F IDO is a lady's pet, though he is a large Dog; he is a very
gentle elegant creature, very different from our friend Toby.
He is always beautifully clean, and unable to put up with the
rough ways of common Dogs like the village curs.
His very bark is gentle, and never uttered without cause.
When he jumps up to caress his mistress, he does so gracefully,
and he is very obedient. But he is not as clever as Good
Doggie," or "Toby the Village Dog;" in fact, I think, a little
more fun and freedom might be good for him; but he is quite
content to live in my lady's chamber, and watch over her safety
by day and night, and he does with very little play.
He has the good qualities of all Dogs. He is very faithful
and obedient; his chief fault is being a little dainty. He will
not eat Dogs' biscuits; he prefers chicken to mutton, and likes
lumps of sugar when he can get them.
I am not quite sure that he is as happy as if he were left
to follow his instincts-that is, his natural ways-more. But
habit has made him content to be shut up a great deal, to be
taken out for a walk only once a day tied to a string, and for a
drive in the carriage afterwards, instead of racing about in the
woods and fields chasing his prey.
But poor Fido is very glad when his mistress goes out of
town. He does so very much love the country, where he can
run about without a string, and even sometimes have a bit of
fun chasing a Cat!
Fido loves his mistress very much; he would not let any
one hurt her. Once a great wild cow chased her in a field;
then Fido ran between the lady and the fierce animal, and
dared its sharp horns in defence of his dear owner. The cow,
perhaps frightened at his loud barking, turned and went off.
Fido was much praised and petted for his courage, and
has often heard his mistress tell the story of his brave action.
ALEXANDER THE GREAT.
THIS is a picture of Aunt Mary's Dog. He is named
Alick, but he is such a conceited Dog, and seems to think
so much of himself, that we call him Alexander the Great.
Do you know who Alexander the Great was ? I will tell
you. He was a young King-very brave and clever, and he
fought with great nations, and conquered them, and made him-
self their master. So people called him "Great."
Now, there lived at that time in Greece a very strange man.
He chose to be very poor-to go with bare feet, and to live in
a tub-and he said very rude things to people. But as he
knew a great deal the Greeks thought him very wise ; so
Alexander went to see him. He found Diogenes sitting out-
side his tub, enjoying the sunshine. "Can I do anything for
you?" asked the King. "Nothing but stand out of my sun-
shine," said Diogenes. Alexander turned to his courtiers, and
said, If I were not Alexander, I should wish to be Diogenes."
I think he was pleased that the wise man should be so
easily contented. But Diogenes might have been civil, and
thanked the King for his wish to do him good; and I don't think
it was wise to live in a tub-do you ?
Alexander conquered all the great countries in the world at
that time, and then complained because there were no more to
conquer! But he did some good. He had the people he con-
quered taught many things, and ruled them well.
Now, the cross old man in the tub did no good to any one;
for to be content in such a home, when he could by honest
work have lived in a house, was foolish; and if his example were
followed, the world would be a very sad place.
Do you not think that the Dog in the picture looks like
Alexander talking to the wise man?