Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Half Title
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 List of Illustrations
 The dog
 The wolf
 The horse
 The panther and leopard
 The elephant
 The lion
 The galago
 The bear
 The rat and mouse
 The rabbit
 The hare
 The goat
 The tiger
 The rhinoceros
 The alligator
 The cat
 The jackal
 The sheep
 The deer
 The hippopotamus
 The weasel
 The squirrel
 The gjraffe
 The monkey tribe
 The zebra
 The or and cow
 The lama
 Back Cover

Title: Stories about animals
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00002052/00001
 Material Information
Title: Stories about animals with pictures to match
Physical Description: xii, 336 p., 1 leaf of plates : ill. ; 18 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Woodworth, Francis C ( Francis Channing ), 1812-1859
Phillips, Sampson & Company ( Publisher )
Publisher: Phillips, Sampson and Company
Place of Publication: Boston
Publication Date: 1851
Copyright Date: 1849
Subject: Animals -- Folklore -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Animal behavior -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1851   ( rbbin )
Bldn -- 1851
Genre: non-fiction   ( marcgt )
Folklore   ( lcsh )
Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
Statement of Responsibility: by Francis C. Woodworth.
General Note: Engraved t.p.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00002052
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: ltqf - AAA2216
notis - ALJ0566
oclc - 20814678
alephbibnum - 002240027

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    Half Title
        Half Title
    Title Page
        Page i
        Page ii
        Page iii
        Page iv
        Page v
        Page vi
        Page vii
        Page viii
    Table of Contents
        Page ix
        Page x
    List of Illustrations
        Page xi
        Page xii
    The dog
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
    The wolf
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
    The horse
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
    The panther and leopard
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
    The elephant
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
    The lion
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
    The galago
        Page 155
        Page 156
    The bear
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
    The rat and mouse
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
    The rabbit
        Page 189
        Page 190
        Page 191
        Page 192
        Page 193
    The hare
        Page 194
        Page 195
        Page 196
        Page 197
        Page 198
        Page 199
        Page 200
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
    The goat
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
        Page 207
        Page 208
        Page 209
        Page 210
    The tiger
        Page 211
        Page 212
        Page 213
        Page 214
        Page 215
        Page 216
        Page 217
        Page 218
        Page 219
        Page 220
        Page 221
        Page 222
    The rhinoceros
        Page 223
        Page 224
        Page 225
        Page 226
    The alligator
        Page 227
        Page 228
        Page 229
        Page 230
        Page 231
        Page 232
        Page 233
        Page 234
    The cat
        Page 235
        Page 236
        Page 237
        Page 238
        Page 239
        Page 240
        Page 241
        Page 242
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
        Page 246
        Page 247
        Page 248
        Page 249
        Page 250
        Page 251
    The jackal
        Page 252
        Page 253
        Page 254
        Page 255
        Page 256
        Page 257
        Page 258
    The sheep
        Page 259
        Page 260
        Page 261
        Page 262
        Page 263
        Page 264
        Page 265
        Page 266
        Page 267
        Page 268
        Page 269
        Page 270
        Page 271
    The deer
        Page 272
        Page 273
        Page 274
        Page 275
        Page 276
        Page 277
    The hippopotamus
        Page 278
        Page 279
        Page 280
        Page 281
        Page 282
        Page 283
    The weasel
        Page 284
        Page 285
        Page 286
        Page 287
        Page 288
        Page 289
        Page 290
        Page 291
        Page 292
    The squirrel
        Page 293
        Page 294
        Page 295
        Page 296
        Page 297
        Page 298
        Page 299
        Page 300
        Page 301
        Page 302
        Page 303
        Page 304
        Page 305
        Page 306
        Page 307
        Page 308
    The gjraffe
        Page 309
        Page 310
    The monkey tribe
        Page 311
        Page 312
        Page 313
        Page 314
        Page 315
        Page 316
        Page 317
        Page 318
        Page 319
        Page 320
        Page 321
        Page 322
        Page 323
    The zebra
        Page 324
        Page 325
        Page 326
        Page 327
    The or and cow
        Page 328
        Page 329
        Page 330
        Page 331
        Page 332
        Page 333
    The lama
        Page 334
        Page 335
        Page 336
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text

4 4'

'4~ 47~ r

Lgu 3r

A, / *


I ~
















Enwerd, according to Act of Congress, in
the year 1849,
n the Clerk's Office of the District Court for
the Southern District of New York.

N the following pages are grouped toge-
ther anecdotes illustrative of the peeu-
liarities of different animals-mostly
quadrupeds-their habits, dispositions,
intelligence, and affection. Nothing like a
scientific treatise of any of these animals has
been attempted. I do not even give a generic or
specific history of one of them, except so far as they
are all casually and incidentally described in these
anecdotes. Their natural history, in detail, I leave
for others, as the historian or biographer of men,
bent only on a record of the thoughts, words, and
acts of men, passes by the abstract details, however
interesting they may be, of human physiology, and
the general characteristics of the species. I have
not aimed to introduce to the reader, in this volume,

all the animals belonging to the race of quadrupeds,
who have a claim to such a distinction. I have pre-
ferred rather to make a selection from the great mul-
titude, and to present such facts and anecdotes re-
specting those selected as shall, while they interest
and entertain the young reader, tend to make him
familiar with this branch of useful knowledge.
I ought, in justice to myself, to explain the reason
why I have restricted my anecdotes almost exclu-
sively to animals belonging to the race of quadrupeds.
It is seldom wise, in my judgment, for an author to
define, very minutely, any plan he may have, to be
developed in future years-as so many circumstances
may thwart that plan altogether, or very materially
modify it. Yet I may say, in this connection, that
thegeneral plan I had marked out for myself, when
I set about the task of collecting materials for these
familiar anecdotes, is by no means exhausted in this
volume, and that, should my stories respecting quad-
rupeds prove as acceptable to my young friends as
I hope, it is my intention eventually to pursue the
same, or a similar course, in relation to the other
great divisions of the animal kingdom-Birds, Rep-
tiles, Insects, Fishes, etc.
The stories I tell I have picked up wherever I



could find them-having been generally content
when I have judged a particular story to be, in the
first place, a good story, and in the second place, a
reliable one. I have not thought it either necessary
or desirable, to give, in every case, the source from
which I have derived my facts. Some of them I 9b-
tained by actual observation; quite as many were
communicated by personal friends and casual ac-
quaintances; and by far the greater portion were
gleaned from the current newspapers of the day, and
from the many valuable works on natural history,
published in England and in this country. Among
the books I have consulted, I am mostly indebted to
the following: Bingley's Anecdotes illustrative of the
Instincts of Animals; Knight's Library of Entertain-
ing Knowledge; Bell's Phenomena of Nature; the
Young Naturalist's Rambles; Natural History of the
Earth and Man; Chambers' Miscellany of Useful and
Entertaining Knowledge; Animal Biography ; and
the Penny Magazine.
The task of preparing this volume for the press
has been an exceedingly pleasant one. Indeed, it
has been rather recreation than toil, in comparison
with other and severer literary labors. I trust my
young friends will take as much pleasure in reading




these stories as I have taken in collecting them. I
hope too, that no one of my readers will fail to dis-
cover, as he proceeds, the evidences of the wisdom,
power, and goodness of the Being who formed and
who controls and governs the animal kingdom.
Here, as in every department of nature's works,
these evidences abound, if we will but perceive them.
Look at them, dear reader, and in your admiration
of nature, forget not the love and reverence you owe
to nature's God,

4^^^ ^w^4^


The Dog 13
The Wolf 66
The Horse 78
The Panther 103
The Elephant 119
The Lion 131
The Galago 155
The Bear 157
The Rat 173
The Mouse 184
The Rabbit. 189
The Hare 194
The Goat 204
The Tiger 211
The Rhinoceros 221
The Alligator 227
The Cat 235
The Jackal 262
The Sheep 259
The Deer 272
The Hippopotamus . 278
The Weasel .. 284


The Squirrel 293
The Giraffe 309
The Monkey Tribe 311
The Zebra 324
The Ox and Cow 328
The Lama 334

Rover and his Play-fellow 14
The Dog at his Master's Grave 16
Nero, saving Little Ellen 19
The Servant and the Mastiff 23
The Child discovered by the Indian's Dog 27
The Dog of St. Bernard, rescuing the Child 34
The Bloodhound 38
Exploit of the New England Dog 43
A Shepherd Dog feeding a lost Child 48
A Newfoundland, saving a Child from drowning 53
The Adventure with the Serpent 59
The Russian Dog-Sledge 61
The Skirmish with Wolves 68
A Scene in the old Wolf Story 74
The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing 76
The Horse watching over the Trumpeter 80
Parting with the Favorite Horse 85
Alexander taming Bucephalus 90


Uncle Peter and his Queer Old Mare 95
The Horse sentenced to die 98
The Leopard and the Serpent 102
The Elephant .. 118
The Lion .. 130
The Lioness and her Cubs 146
The Convention of Animals 150
The Galago 154
Portrait of Goldsmith 159
The Juggler and his Pupils 171
Field Mice 183
The Rabbit Trap 190
The Rabbit 191
Tame Hares 198
Portrait of Cowper 201
Wonderful Feat of a Goat 205
The Tiger .. 214
The Rhinoceros 222
The Alligator .. 228
The Cat 241
The Jackal 254
The Wounded Traveler 258
Giotto, sketching among his Sheep 263
The Invalid and the Sheep 266
The Deer .. 273
The Hippopotamus. 280
The Ferret Weasel 285
A Hawk pouncing on a Weasel 290
The Squirrel .. 299
The Giraffe .. 308
The Orang-outang .. 317
The Zebra 325
Cows. taking their comfort .. 329

$toti about Inimalu .

HATEVER may be thought of the
somewhat aristocratic preten-
Ssions of the lion, as the dog,
after all, has the reputation of
t being the most intelligent of
the inferior animals, I will allow this interesting
family the precedence in these stories, and intro-
duce them first to the reader. For the same
reason, too-because they exhibit such wonder-
ful marks of intelligence, approaching, some-
times, almost to the boundary of human reason-
I shall occupy much more time in relating stories
about them than about any other animal. Let
me see. Where shall I begin? With Rover,
my old friend Rover-my companion and play-
fellow, when a little boy ? I have a good mind
to do so; for he endeared himself to me by thou-
sands of acts of kindness and affection, and he


has still a place of honor in my memory. He
frequently went to school with me. As soon as
he saw me get my satchel of books, he was at
my side, and off he ran before me toward the
school-house. When he had conducted me to

school, he usually took leave of me, and return-
ed home. But he came back again, before
school was out, so as to be my companion home-
ward. I might tell a great many stories about
the smartness of Rover; but on the whole I
think I will forbear. I am afraid if I should
talk half an hour about him, some of you would


accuse me of too much partiality for my favor-
ite, and would think I had fallen into the same
foolish mistake that is sometimes noticed in over-
fond fathers arid mothers, who talk about a little
boy or girl of theirs, as if there never was
another such a prodigy. So I will just pass
over Rover's wonderful exploits-for he had
some, let me whisper it in your ear-and tell
my stories about other people's dogs.
"Going to the dogs," is a favorite expression
with a great many people. They understand
by it a condition in the last degree deplorable.
To "go to the dogs," is spoken of as being
just about the worst thing that cai happen
to a poor fellow. I think differently, however.
I wish from my heart, that some selfish per.
sons whom I could name would go to the dogs.
They would learn there, I am sure, what they
have never learned before-most valuable les-
sons in gratitude, and affection, and self-sa-
crifice-to say nothing about common sense, a
little more of which would not hurt them.
There is an exceedingly affecting story of a
dog that lived in Scotland as long ago as 1716:
This dog belonged to a Mr. Stewart, of Argyle-
shire, and was a great favorite with his master.
He was a Highland greyhound, I believe. One
afternoon, while his master was hunting in com-


pany with this dog, he was attacked with in-
flammation in his side. He returned home, and
died the same evening. Some three days af-
terward his funeral took place, when the dog
followed the remains of his master to the grave-
yard, which was nearly ten miles from the resi-


dence of the family. He remained until the
interment was completed, when he returned
home with those who attended the funeral.
When he entered the house he found the plaid
cloak, formerly his master's, hanging in the
entry. He pulled it down, and in defiance of
all attempts to take it from him, lay on it all



night, and would not even allow any person to
touch it. Every evening afterward, about sun-
set, he left home, traveled to the grave-yard,
reposed on the grave of his late master all
night, and returned home regularly in the morn-
ing. But, what was still more remarkable, he
could not be persuaded to eat a morsel. Child-
ren near the grave-yard, who watched his mo-
tions, again and again carried him food; but he
resolutely refused it, and it was never known
by what means he existed. While at home he
was always dull and sorrowful; he usually lay
in a sleeping posture, and frequently uttered
long and mournful groans.
In the western part of our own country, some
years since, an exploit was performed by a New-
foundland dog, which I must tell my readers. It
is related by Mrs. Phelan. A man by the name
of Wilson, residing near a river which was
navigable, although the current was somewhat
rapid, kept a pleasure boat. One day he invited
a small party to accompany him in an excursion
on the river. They set out. Among the num-
ber were Mr. Wilson's wife and little girl, about
three years of age. The child was delighted
with the boat, and with the water lilies that
floated on the surface of the river. Meanwhile,
a fine Newfoundland dog trotted along the bank



of the stream, looking occasionally at the boat,
and thinking, perhaps, that he should like a sail
Pleasantly onward went the boat, and the
party were in the highest spirits, when little
Ellen, trying to get a pretty lily, stretched out
her hand over the side of the boat, and in a mo-
ment she lost her balance and fell into the river.
What language can describe the agony of those
parents when they saw the current close over
their dear child! The mother, in her terror,
could hardly be prevented from throwing herself
into the river to rescue her drowning girl, and
her husband had to hold her back by force.
Vain was the help of man at that dreadful mo-
ment; but prayer was offered up to God, and he
heard it.
No one took any notice of Nero, the faithful
dog. But he had kept his eye upon the boat, it
seems. He saw all that was going on; he
plunged into the river at the critical moment
when the child had sunk to the bottom, and
dived beneath the surface. Suddenly a strange
noise was heard on the side of the boat opposite
to the one toward which the party were anx-
iously looking, and something seemed to be
splashing in the water. It was the dog. Nero
had dived to the bottom of that deep river, and



found the very spot where the poor child had
settled down into her cold, strange cradle of
weeds and slime. Seizing her clothes, and hold-
ing them fast in his teeth, he brought her up to
the surface of the water, a very little distance
from the boat, and with looks that told his joy,

he gave the little girl into the hands of her aston-
ished father. Then, swimming back to the shore,
he shook the water from his long, shaggy coat,
and laid himself down, panting, to recover from
the fatigue of his adventure.
Ellen seemed for awhile to be dead; her face




was deadly pale; it hung on her shoulder; her
dress showed that she had sunk to the bottom.
But by and by she recovered gradually, and in
less than a week she was as well as ever.
But the Glasgow Chronicle tells a story of the
most supremely humane dog I ever heard of--so
humane, in fact, that his humanity was some-
what troublesome. This dog-a fine Newfound-
land-resided near Edinburgh. Every day he
was seen visiting all the ponds and brooks in the
neighborhood of his master's residence. He had
been instrumental more than once in saving per-
sons from drowning. He was respected for his
magnanimity, and caressed for his amiable qual-
ities, till, strange as it may be considered, this
flattery completely turned his head. Saving life
became a passion. He took to it as men take
to dram-drinking. Not having sufficient scope
for the exercise of his diseased benevolence in
the district, he took to a very questionable me-
thod of supplying the deficiency. Whenever he
found a child on the brink of a pond, he watch-
ed patiently for the opportunity to place his fore-
paws suddenly on its person, and plunged it in
before it was aware. Now all this was done for
the mere purpose of fetching them out again.
He appeared to find intense pleasure in this non-
sensical sort of work. At last the outcry became


so great by parents alarmed for their children,
although no life was ever lost by the indulgence
of such a singular taste, that the poor dog was
reluctantly destroyed.
Mr. Bingley, an English writer, has contribu-
ted not a little to the amusement and instruction
of the young, by a book which he published a
few years ago, relating to the instinct of the dog.
Among the stories told in this book, are several
which I must transfer for my own readers.
Here is one about the fatal adventure of a large
mastiff with a robber. I shall give it nearly in
the words of Mr. Bingley.
Not a great many years ago, a lady, who re-
sided in a lonely house in Cheshire, England,
permitted all her domestics, save one female, to
go to a supper at an inn about three miles dis-
tant, which was kept by the uncle of the girl
who remained at home with her mistress. As
the servants were not expected to return till the
morning, all the doors and windows were as
usual secured, and the lady and her companion
were about to retire to bed, when they were
alarmed by the noise of some persons apparently
attempting to break into the house. A large
mastiff, which fortunately happened to be in the
kitchen, set up a tremendous barking; but this
had not the effect of intimidating the robbers.



After listening attentively for some time, the
maid-servant discovered that the robbers were
attempting to enter the house by forcing their
way through a hole under the sunk story in the
back kitchen. Being a young woman of cou-
rage, she went toward the spot, accompanied
by the dog, and patting him on the back, ex-
claimed, "At him, Caesar!" The dog leaped
into the hole, made a furious attack upon the
intruder, and gave something a violent shake.
In a few minutes all became quiet, and the ani-
mal returned with his mouth full of blood. A
slight bustle was now heard outside the house,
but in a short time all again became still. The
lady and servant, too much terrified to think of
going to bed, sat up until morning without fur-
ther molestation. When day dawned they dis-
covered a quantity of blood outside of the wall
in the court-yard.
When her fellow-servants came home, they
brought word to the girl that her uncle, the inn-
keeper, had died suddenly of apoplexy during
the night, and that it was intended that the fune-
ral should take place in the course of the day.
Having obtained leave to go to the funeral, she
was surprised to learn, on her arrival, that the
coffin was screwed down. She insisted, how-
ever, on taking a last look at the body, which



was most unwillingly granted; when, to her
great surprise and horror, she discovered that
his death had been occasioned by a large wound
in the throat. The events of the preceding
night rushed on her mind, and it soon became
evident to her that she had been the innocent
and unwilling cause of her uncle's death. It
turned out, that he and one of his servants had
formed the design of robbing the house and
murdering the lady during the absence of her
servants, but that their wicked design had been
frustrated by the courage and watchfulness of
her faithful mastiff.
There is another anecdote told of a wild In-
dian dog which I am sure my young friends will
like. It is from the same source with the one
about the mastiff. A man by the name of Le
Fevre, many years ago, lived on a farm in the
United States, near the Blue mountains. Those
mountains at that time abounded in deer and
other animals. One day, the youngest of Le
Fevre's children, who was four years old, disap-
peared early in the morning. The family, after
a partial search, becoming alarmed, had recourse
to the assistance of some neighbors. These se-
parated into parties, and explored the woods in
every direction, but without success. Next day
the search was renewed, but with no better re-



suit. In the midst of their distress Tewenissa, a
native Indian from Anaguaga, on the eastern
branch of the river Susquehannah, who happen-
ed to be journeying in that quarter, accompanied
by his dog Oniah, happily went into the house
of the planter with the design of reposing him-
self. Observing the distress of the family, and
being informed of the circumstances, he request-
ed that the shoes and stockings last worn by the
child should be brought to him. He then order-
ed his dog to smell them; and taking the house
for a centre, described a semicircle of a quarter
of a mile, urging the dog to find out the scent.
They had not gone far before the sagacious ani-
mal began to bark. The track was followed up
by the dog with still louder barking, till at last,
darting off at full speed, he was lost in the thick-
ness of the woods. Half an hour after they saw
him returning. His countenance was anima-
ted, bearing even an expression of joy; it-was
evident he had found the child-but was he dead
or alive? This was a moment of cruel suspense,
but it was of short continuance. The Indian
followed his dog, and the excellent animal con-
ducted him to the lost child, who was found un-
harmed, lying at the foot of a great tree. Tew-
enissa took him in his arms, and returned with
him to the distressed parents and their friends,



who had not been able to advance with the
same speed. He restored little Derick to his
father and mother, who ran to meet him, when
a scene of tenderness and gratitude ensued, which
may be easier felt than described. The child
was in a state of extreme weakness, but, by
means of a little care, he was in a short time re-
stored to his usual vigor.
In one of the churches at Lambeth, England,
there is a painting on a window, representing a
man with his dog. There is a story connected
with this painting which is worth telling. Tra-
dition informs us that a piece of ground near
Westminster bridge, containing a little over an
acre, was left to that parish by a pedler, upon
condition that his picture, accompanied by his
dog, should be faithfully painted on the glass of
one of the windows. The parishioners, as the
story goes, had this picture executed accordingly,
and came in possession of the land. This was
in the year 1504. The property rented at that
time for about a dollar a year. It now com-
mands a rent of nearly fifteen hundred dollars.
The reason given for the pedler's request is, that
he was once very poor, when, one day, having
occasion to pass across this piece of ground, and
being weary, he sat down under a tree to rest.
While seated here, he noticed that his dog, who



Was with him, acted strangely. At a distance
of several rods from the place where he sat, the
dog busied himself for awhile in scratching at a
particular spot of earth, after which he returned
to his master, looked earnestly up to his face,
and endeavored to draw him toward the spot
where he had been digging. The pedler, how-
ever, paid but little attention to the movements
of the dog, until he had repeated them several
times, when he was induced to accompany the
dog. To his surprise he found, on doing so, that
there was a pot of gold buried there. With a
part of this gold he purchased the lot of ground
on which it had been discovered, and bequeathed
it to the parish on the conditions mentioned
above. The pedler and his dog are represented
in the picture which ornaments the window of
that church. "But is the story a true one ?'
methinks 1 hear my little friends inquire. I
confess it has the air of one of Baron Mun-
chausen's yams, and I am somewhat doubtful
about it. But that is the tradition in the Lam-
beth parish, where the picture may still be seen
by any body who takes the trouble to visit the
place. The story may be true. Stranger things
have happened.
Those who have studied geography do not
need to be informed that there is a chain of



high mountains running through Switzerland,
called the Alps. The tops of some of these
mountains are covered with snow nearly all the
year. In the winter it is very difficult and dan-
gerous traveling over the Alps; for the snow
frequently rolls down the sides of the mountain,
in a great mass, called an avalanche, and buries
the traveler beneath it. On one of these mount-
ains there is the convent of St. Bernard. It is
situated ten thousand feet above the base of the
mountain, and is on one of the most dangerous
passes between Switzerland and Savoy. It is
said to be the highest inhabited spot in the old
world. It is tenanted by a race of monks, who
are very kind to travelers. Among other good
services they render to the strangers who pass
near their convent, they search for unhappy per-
sons who have been overtaken by sudden storms,
and who are liable to perish.
These monks have a peculiar variety of the
dog, called the dog of St. Bernard, or the Alpine
Spaniel, which they train to hunt for travelers
who are overtaken by a storm, and who are in
danger of perishing. The dog of St. Bernard
is one of the most sagacious of his species. He
is covered with thick, curly hair, which is fre-
quently of great service in warming the traveler,
when he is almost dead with cold.



One of these dogs, named Barry, had, it was
reckoned, in twelve years saved the lives of forty
individuals. Whenever the mountain was en-
veloped In fogs and snow, away scoured Barry,
barking and searching all about for any person
who might have fallen a victim to the storm.
When he was successful in finding any one, if
his own strength was insufficient to rescue him,
he would run back to the convent in search of
I think I must translate for my young readers
an affecting story about this dog Barry, which I
read the other day in a little French book, en-
titled "Modbles des Enfans." It seems that a
great while ago there was a poor woman wan-
dering about these mountains, in the vicinity of
the convent of St. Bernard, in company with
her son, a very small boy. The story does not
inform us what they were doing, and why they
were walking in such a dangerous place. Per-
haps they were gathering fuel to keep them
warm; and very likely when they left home the
weather was mild, and that they did not antici-
pate a storm. However that may be, they were
overtaken by an avalanche, the mother was bu-
ried beneath it, and the child saw her no more.
But I must tell the remainder of the story in the
language of the French writer.


1ff I




"Poor boy! the storm increased; the rind
howled, and whirled the snow into huge aeaps.
In the hope that he might possibly meet a tra-
veler, the child forced his way for awhile through
the snow; but at last, exhausted, benumbed with
the cold, and discouraged, he fell upon his knees,
joined his hands devoutly together, and cried, as
he raised his face, bathed in tears, toward hea-
ven, 'O my God! have mercy on a poor child,
who has nobody in the world to care for him!'
As he lay in the place where he fell down,
which was sheltered a little by a rock, he grew
colder and colder, and he thought he must die.
But still, from time to time, he prayed, 'Have
mercy, O my God! on a poor child, who has no-
body in the world to care for him!' At last he
fell asleep, but was wakened by feeling a warm
paw on his face. As he opened his eyes he saw
with terror an enormous dog holding his head
near his own. He uttered a cry of fear, and
started back a little way from the dog. The
dog approached the boy again, and tried, after
his own fashion, to make the little fellow under-
stand that he came there to do him good, and
not to hurt him. Then he licked the face and
hands of the child. By and by the child confided
in his visitor, and began to entertain a hope that
he might yet be saved. When Barry saw that


his errand was understood, he lifted his head.
and showed the child a bottle covered with wil-
low, which was hanging around his neck. This
bottle contained wine, some of which the little
fellow drank, and felt refreshed. Then the dog
lay down by the side of the child, and gave him
the benefit of the heat of his own body for a long
time. After this, the dog made a sign for the
boy to get upon his back. It was some time
before the boy could understand what the sign
meant. But it was repeated again and again,
and at last the child mounted the back of the
kind animal, who carried him safely to the con-
Here is a capital story about a bloodhound,
taken from the excellent book by Mr. Bingley, to
which I have before alluded. Aubri de Mondi-
dier, a gentleman of family and fortune, traveling
alone through the Forest of Bondy, in France,
was murdered, and buried under a tree. His
dog, a bloodhound, would not quit his master's
grave for several days; till at length, compelled
by hunger, he proceeded to the house of an inti-
mate friend of the unfortunate Aubri at Paris,
and, by his melancholy howling, seemed desirous
of expressing the loss they had both sustained.
He repeated his cries, ran to the door, looked
back to see if any one followed him, returned to







his master's friend, pulled him by the sleeve, and
with dumb eloquence, entreated him to go with
him. The singularity of all these actions of the
dog, added to the circumstance of his coming
there without his master, whose faithful com-
panion he had always been, prompted the com-
pany to follow the animal. He conducted them
to the foot of a tree, where he renewed his howl-
ing, scratching the earth with his feet, and sig-
nificantly entreating them to search the particu-
lar spot. Accordingly, on digging, the body of
the unhappy Aubri was found.
Some time after, the dog accidentally met the
assassin, who is styled, by all the historians who
relate the story, the Chevalier Macaire, when,
instantly seizing him by the throat, he was with
great difficulty compelled to quit his victim. In
short, whenever the dog saw the chevalier, he
continued to pursue and attack him with equal
fury. Such obstinate violence, confined only to
Macaire, appeared very extraordinary, especially
to those who at once recalled the dog's remark-
able attachment to his master, and several in-
stances in which Macaire's envy and hatred to
Aubri de Mondidier had been conspicuous.
Additional circumstances increased suspicion,
and at length the affair reached the royal ear.
The king accordingly sent for the dog, which



appeared extremely gentle, till he perceived Ma-
caire in the midst of several noblemen, when he
ran fiercely toward him, growling at and attack-
ing him, as usual. Struck with such a combi-
nation of circumstantial evidence against Ma-
caire, the king determined to refer the decision
to the chance of battle; or, in other words, he
gave orders for a combat between the chevalier
and the dog. The lists were appointed in the
Isle of Notre Dame, then an unenclosed, unin-
habited place. Macaire was allowed for his
weapon a great cudgel, and an empty cask was
given to the dog as a place of retreat, to enable
him to recover breath.
Every thing being prepared, the dog no sooner
found himself at liberty, than he made for his
adversary, running round him and menacing
him on every side, avoiding his blows till his
strength was exhausted; then springing forward,
he seized him by the throat, threw him on the
ground, and obliged him to confess his guilt in
presence of the king and the whole court. In
consequence of this confession, the chevalier,
after a few days, was convicted upon his own
acknowledgment, and beheaded on a scaffold in
the Isle of Notre Dame.
The editor of the Portland (Maine) Adver-
tiser relates the following anecdote: "A gentle-



man from the country recently drove up to a
store in this city, and jumping from his sleigh,
left his dog in the care of the vehicle. Presently
an avalanche of snow slid from the top of the
building upon the sidewalk, which so frightened
the horse that he started off down the street at
a furious run. At this critical juncture, the dog
sprang from the sleigh, and seizing the reins in
his mouth, held back with all his strength, and
actually reined in the frightened animal to a post
at the side of the street, when apparently having
satisfied himself that no danger was to be appre-
hended, he again resumed his station in the
sleigh, as unconcerned as if he had only done
an ordinary act of duty."
A few years ago a little girl, residing in an
inland village in Connecticut-without the con-
sent of her mother, be it remembered-went
alone to a pond near by, to play with her broth-
er's little vessel, and fell into the water. She
came very near drowning; but a dog belonging
to the family, named Rollo, who was not far off,
plunged in and drew her to the shore. She was
so exhausted, however, that she could not rise,
and the dog could not lift her entirely out of the
water. But he raised her head a little above the
surface, and then ran after help. He found a
man, and made use of every expedient in his



power to draw him to the spot where he had left
the child. At first the stranger paid very little
attention to the dog; but by and by he was per-
suaded something was wrong, and followed the
dog to the pond. The little girl was not drown-
ed, 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 occupa-
tion is to make daily visits to the different ex-
tremities of his pastures in succession, and to
turn back, by means of his dog, any stragglers
that may be approaching the boundaries of his
In one of these excursions, a shepherd hap-
pened to carry with him one of his children,

- d i
Y" ^




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 dis-
tance 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 darken-
ed by one of those thick and heavy fogs which
frequently descend so rapidly amid these moun-
tains, as, in the space of a few minutes, almost
to turn day into night. The anxious father in-
stantly 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 cata-
racts with which these mountains abound, he
was at length overtaken by night. Still wander-
ing 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 therefore obliged to return home, having



lost both his child and his dog, which had attend-
ed him faithfully for years.
Next morning by day-break, the shepherd, ac-
companied by a band of his neighbors, set out
again to seek his child; but, after a day spent in
fruitless fatigue, he was at last compelled by the
approach of night to descend from the mountain.
On returning to his cottage, he found that the
dog which he had lost the day before, had been
home, and, on receiving a piece of cake, had in-
stantly gone off again. For several successive
days the shepherd renewed the search for his
child, and still, on returning in the evening dis-
appointed to his cottage, he found that the dog
had been there, and, on receiving his usual al-
lowance of cake, had instantly disappeared.
Struck with this singular circumstance, he re-
mained at home one day, and when the dog, as
usual, departed with his piece of cake, he resolv-
ed to follow him, and find out the cause of this
strange procedure. The dog led the way to a
cataract at some distance from the spot where
the shepherd had left his child. The banks of
the waterfall, almost joined at the top, yet sepa-
rated by an abyss of immense depth, presented
that abrupt appearance which so often astonish-
es and appalls the traveler amid the Grampian
mountains, and indicates that these stupendous




chasms were not the silent work of time, but the
sudden effect of some violent convulsion of the
earth. Down one of these rugged and almost
perpendicular descents the dog began, without
hesitation, to make his way, and at last disap-
peared in a cave, the mouth of which was almost
on a level with the torrent. The shepherd with
difficulty followed; but, on entering the cave,
what were his emotions, when he beheld his in-
fant eating with much satisfaction the cake
which the dog had just brought him, while the
faithful animal stood by, eyeing his young charge
with the utmost complacency! From the situa-
tion in which the child was found, it appeared
that he had wandered to the brink of the preci-
pice, and either fallen or scrambled down till he
reached the cave, which the dread of the torrent
had afterward prevented him from quitting.
The dog, by means of his scent, had traced him
to the spot, and afterward prevented him from
starving, by giving up to him his own daily al-
lowance. He appears never to have quitted the
child by night or day, except when it was neces-
sary to go for his food, and then he was always
seen running at full speed to and from the cot-
The following story is related on the authority
of a correspondent of the Boston Traveler: A



gentleman from abroad, stopping at a hotel in
Boston, privately secreted his handkerchief be-
hind the cushion of a sofa, and left the hotel, in
company with his dog. After walking for some
minutes, he suddenly stopped, and said to his
dog, "I have left my handkerchief at the hotel,
and want it "-giving no particular directions in
reference to it. The dog immediately returned
in full speed, and entered the room which his
master had just left. He went directly to the
sofa, but the handkerchief was gone. He jump-
ed upon tables and counters, but it was not to
be seen. It proved that a friend had discovered
it, and supposing that it had been left by mis-
take, had retained it for the owner. But Tiger
was not to be foiled. He flew about the room,
apparently much excited, in quest of the "lost or
stolen." Soon, however, he was upon the track;
he scented it to the gentleman's coat pocket.
What was to be done? The dog had no means
of asking verbally for it, and was not accustomed
to picking pockets; and, besides, the gentleman
was ignorant of his business with him. But
Tiger's sagacity did not suffer him to remain
long in suspense; he seized the skirt containing
the prize, and furiously tore it from the coat, and
hastily made off with it, much to the surprise of
its owner. Tiger overtook his master, and re-



stored the lost property, receiving hia approba-
tion, notwithstanding he did it at the expense of
the gentleman's coat. At a subsequent inter-
view, the gentleman refused any remuneration
for his torn garment, declaring that the joke was
worth the price of his coat.
One day, as a little girl was amusing herself
with a child, near Carlisle Bridge, Dublin, and
was sportively toying with the child, he made a
sudden spring from her arms, and in an instant
fell into the river. The screaming nurse and
anxious spectators saw the water close over the
child, and conceived that he had sunk to rise no
more. A Newfoundland dog, which had been
accidentally passing with his master, sprang for-
ward to the wall, and gazed wistfully at the rip-
ple in the water, made by the child's descent.
At the same instant the dog sprang forward to
the edge of the water. While the animal was
descending, the child again sunk, and the faithful
creature was seen anxiously swimming round
and round the spot where he had disappeared.
Once more the child rose to the surface; the dog
seized him, and with a firm but gentle pressure,
bore him to land without injury. Meanwhile a
gentleman arrived, who, on inquiry into the cir-
cumstances of the transaction, exhibited strong
marks of interest and feeling toward the child,



and of admiration for the dog that had rescued
him from death. The person who had removed
the child from the dog turned to show him to
the gentleman, when there were presented to his
view the well-known features of his own son!
A mixed sensation of terror, joy, and surprise,
struck him mute. When he had recovered the
use of his faculties, and fondly kissed his little
darling, he lavished a thousand embraces on the
dog, and offered to his master five hundred gui-
neas if he would transfer the valuable animal to
him; but the owner of the dog felt too much af-
fection for the useful creature, to part with him
for any consideration whatever.
A boatman on the river Thames, in England,
once laid a wager that he and his dog would
leap from the centre arch of Westminster Bridge,
and land at Lambeth within a minute of each
other. He jumped off first, and the dog imme-
diately followed; but as he was not in the secret,
and fearing that his master would be drowned,
he seized him by the neck, and dragged him on
shore, to the great diversion of the spectators.
Some years ago, a gentleman of Queen's Col-
lege, Oxford, went to pass the Christmas vaca-
tion at his father's in the country. An uncle, a
brother, and other friends, were one day to dine
together. It was fine, frosty weather; the two

0 C;l~
SA ~ MD~
r'VG As


young gentlemen went out for a forenoon's re-
creation, and one of them took his skates with
him. They were followed by a favorite grey-
hound. When the friends were beginning to
long for their return, the dog came home at full
speed, and by his apparent anxiety, his laying
hold of their clothes to pull them along, and all
his gestures, he convinced them that something
was wrong. They followed the greyhound, who
led them to a piece of water frozen over. A
hat was seen on the ice, near which was a fresh
aperture. The bodies of the young gentlemen
were soon found, but, alas! though every means
were tried, life could not be restored.
There is another story which places the saga-
city of the greyhound in still stronger light. A
Scotch gentleman, who kept a greyhound and a
pointer, being fond of coursing, employed the
one to find the hares, and the other to catch
them. It was, however, discovered, that when
the season was over, the dogs were in the habit
of going out by themselves, and killing hares for
their own amusement. To prevent this, a large
iron ring was fastened to the pointer's neck by a
leather collar, and hung down so as to prevent
the dog from running or jumping over dikes.
The animals, however, continued to stroll out to
the fields together; and one day, the gentleman



suspecting that all was not right, resolved to
watch them, and, to his surprise, found that the
moment they thought they were unobserved, the
greyhound took up the ring in his mouth, and
carrying it, they set off to the hills, and began
to search for hares, as usual. They were fol-
lowed; and it was observed that whenever the
pointer scented the hare, the ring was dropped,
and the greyhound stood ready to pounce upon
the game the moment the other drove her from
her form; but that he uniformly returned to assist
his companion, after he had caught his prey.
Some of the dogs belonging to the gipsies pos-
sess a great deal of shrewdness. The gipsies,
you know, are a very singular race of people.
They are scattered over a great portion of Eu-
rope, wandering from place to place, and living
in miserable tents, or huts. You can form a
pretty correct notion of a gipsy encampment, by
the picture on another page. Here you see the
gipsy men and women, sitting and standing
around a fire, over which is a pot, evidently con-
taing the material for their meal. If you notice
the picture carefully, you will observe, also, a
little, insignificant looking dog, who is apparently
asleep, and, for aught I know, dreaming about
the exploits of the day. You will no doubt smile,
and wonder what exploits such a cur is able to




perform; but I assure you that if he is at all like
some of the gipsy dogs I have heard of, he has
been taught a good many very shrewd tricks.
The dogs of the gipsies are sometimes trained to
steal for their masters. The thief enters a store
with some respectably dressed man, whom the
owner of the dog will commission for the purpose,
and-the man having made certain signals to
the animal-the gipsy cur, after loitering about
the store, perhaps for hours, waiting a favorable
opportunity, will steal the articles which were
designated, and run away with them to his mas-
ter's tent.
I made the acquaintance of a dog at Niagara
Falls, last summer, who was an ardent admirer
of the beautiful and grand in nature. The little
steamer called the "Maid of the Mist" makes
several trips daily, from a point some two miles
down the river, to within a few rods of the Can-
ada Fall. I went up in this boat, one morning,
and the trip afforded me one of the finest views
I had of this inimitable cataract. Among the
passengers in this/boat, at the time, was the dog
who was so fond of the sublime. He walked
leisurely on board, just before the hour of start-
ing, and during the entire excursion seemed to
enjoy the scene as much as any of the rest of the
passengers. As the boat approached the Ameri-



can Fall, he took his station in the bow, where
he remained, completely deluged in the spray,
until the boat passed the same Fall, on its re-
turn. This, however, is not the most remarka-
ble part of the story. The captain informed me
that such was the daily practice of the dog.
Every morning, regularly, at the hour of start-
ing, he makes his appearance, though he is not
owned by any one engaged in the boat, and
treats himself to this novel excursion.
There is a dog living on Staten Island, who
has for some time been acting the part of a phi-
lanthropist, on a large scale. He makes it a
great share of his business to administer to the
necessities of the sick and infirm dogs in the
neighborhood. As soon as he learns that a dog
is sick, so that he is unable to take care of him-
self, he visits the invalid, and nurses him; and
he even goes from house to house, searching out
those who need his assistance. Frequently he
brings his patient to his own kennel, and takes
care of him until he either gets well or dies.
Sometimes he has two or three sick dogs in his
hospital, at the same time. I have these facts
on the authority of my friend Mr. Ranlett, the
editor of the "Architect," a gentleman of un-
questionable veracity, who has seen the dog thus
imitating the example of the Good Samaritan.



Captain Parry, an adventurous sailor, who
went out from England on a voyage of discovery
in the northern seas, relates some amusing anec-
dotes about the dogs among the Esquimaux In-
dians. These dogs are trained to draw a vehi-
cle called a sledge, made a little like what we
call a sleigh. In some parts of Russia many

people travel in the same manner. Here is a
picture of one of the Russian sledges. It is
made in very handsome style, as you see. The
greater portion of them are constructed much
more rudely. The Esquimaux Indian is famous
for his feats in driving dogs. When he wants
to take a ride, he harnesses up several pairs of
these dogs, and off he goes, almost as swift as
the wind. The dogs are rather unruly, how-
ever, sometimes, and get themselves sadly snarl-
ed together, so that the driver is obliged to go
through the harnessing process several times in
the course of a drive of a few miles. When the



road is level and pretty smoothly worn, eight or
ten dogs, with a weight only of some six or seven
hundred pounds attached to them, are almost
unmanageable, and will run any where they
choose at the rate of ten miles an hour.
The following anecdote we have on the au-
thority of the Newark (N. J.) Daily Advertiser:
An officer of the army, accompanied by his dog,
left West Point on a visit to the city of Burling-
ton, N. J., and while there, becoming sick, wrote
to his wife and family at West Point, in relation
to his indisposition. Shortly after the reception
of his letter, the family were aroused by a whin-
ing, barking and scratching, at the door of the
house, and when opened to ascertain the cause,
in rushed the faithful dog. After being caressed,
and every attempt made to quiet him, the dog, in
despair at not being understood, seized a shawl
in his teeth, and, placing his paws on the lady's
shoulders, deposited there the shawl! He then
placed himself before her, and, fixing his gaze
intently upon her, to attract her attention, seized
her dress, and began to drag her to the door.
The lady then became alarmed, and sent for a
relative, who endeavored to allay her fears, but
she prevailed upon him to accompany her at
once to her husband, and on arriving, found him
dangerously ill in Burlington. The distance



traveled by the faithful animal, and the difficul-
ties encountered, render this exploit almost in-
credible, especially as the boats could not stop at
West Point, on account of the ice, it being in
the winter.
There is a dog in the city of New York, who,
according to unquestionable authority, is accus-
tomed every day not only to bring his mistress
the morning paper, as soon as it is thrown into
the front yard, but to select the one belonging to
the lady, when, as is frequently the case, there is
one lying with it belonging to another member
of the family.
An unfortunate dog, living in England, in or-
der to make sport for some fools, had a pan tied
to his tail, and was sent off on his travels'toward
a village a few miles distant. He reached the
place utterly exhausted, and lay down before
the steps of a tavern, eyeing most anxiously the
horrid annoyance hung behind him, but unable
to move a step further, or rid himself of the tor-
ment. Another dog, a Scotch colly, came up at
the time, and seeing the distress of his crony,
laid himself down gently beside him, and gaining
his confidence by a few caresses, proceeded to
gnaw the string by which the noisy appendage
was attached to his friend's tail, and by about a
quarter of an hour's exertion, severed the cord,



and started to his legs, with the pan hanging
from the string in his mouth, and after a few
joyful capers around his friend, departed on his
travels, in the highest glee at his success.
The Albany Journal tells us of a dog in that
city, who has formed the habit of regarding a
shadow with a great deal of interest. In this
particular, he is not unlike some people that one
occasionally meets with, who spend their whole
time following shadows. The story of the Alba-
ny editor is thus told: Those who are in the
habit of frequenting the post-office, between the
hours of six and eight in the evening, have
doubtless noticed the singular wanderings of a
dog near the first swing door, without knowing
the cause of his mysterious actions. The hall
is lighted with gas, and the burner is placed be-
tween the two doors. When the outer door
swings, the frame-work of the sash throws a
moving shadow on the wall, beneath the struc-
ture, which, from its peculiar movement toward
the floor, has attracted the notice of this dog. He
watches it as sharp as if it were a mouse, and
although his labors have been fruitless, yet he
still continues nightly to grace this place with
his presence. Several attempts have been made
to draw his attention from the object, with but
little success; for though his attention may be


diverted, it is soon lost, as the instant his eye
catches the shadow, he renews his watching.
In all his movements he is very harmless, and
he neither injures nor even molests those who
have occasion to pass through the hall.
As a farmer of good circumstances, who re-
sided in the county of Norfolk, England, was
taking an excursion to a considerable distance
from home, during the frosts in the month of
March 1795, he at length was so benumbed by
the intense cold, that he became stupefied, and
so sleepy that he found himself unable to proceed.
He lay down, and would have perished on the
spot, had not a faithful dog, which attended him,
as if sensible of his dangerous situation, got on
his breast, and, extending himself over him, pre-
served the circulation of his blood. The dog, so
situated for many hours, kept up a continual
barking, by which means, and the assistance of
some passengers, the farmer was roused, and led
to a house, where he soon recovered.




ROM an authentic source I have
obtained an incident of recent oc-
currence, which painfully illustrates
the fury of the wolf, while engaged at
a favorite meal. Near Lake Constance, in Can-
ada, two men observed some wolves engaged
in eating a deer. One of them, named Black,
went to dispute the prize with these ravenous
animals, when he unfortunately fell a victim to
his rashness, the wolves having devoured him,
leaving only a small portion of his bones.
Some three years since, while traveling in
Canada, I met a lady who resided with a broth-
er in the employ of the Hudson's Bay Company,
a few hundred miles north of Montreal. This
lady informed me that she had not unfrequently
been chased by wolves, while proceeding to the
house of her nearest neighbor-about ten miles
distant-and that a pack of them, unusually
hungry, once seemed very much determined to





pull her from her horse, though they finally made
up their minds that they would try their fortunes
in another direction.
It sometimes, though not very frequently hap-
pens, that several wolves together attack men
who travel on horseback, and fight furiously. A
story is told of two men who were traveling in
this manner in Mexico, when two or three
wolves, who, one would suppose, had fasted a
good while, fell upon the men and their horses,
and it was a matter of some doubt, for a time,
who would be the victors, the travelers or their
assailants. The former were armed with pistols,
too. The wolves got the worst of the battle,
however, at last, and they retreated, as men
very often do when they go to war with each
other-having gained nothing but a broken limb
or two, which they boast of for the remainder
of their lives.
A peasant in Russia was one day riding alo g,
when he found that he was pursued by elev en
wolves. Being about two miles from home he
urged his horse to the very extent of his sp.ed.
At the entrance to his residence was a gate,
which being shut at the time, the frightened
horse dashed open, and carried his master safely
into the yard. Nine of the wolves followed the
man and his horse into the inclosure, when for-



tunately, the gate swung back, and caught them
all as it were in a trap. Finding themselves
caught in this manner, the wolves seemed to
lose all their courage and ferocity. They shrunk
away, and tried to hide themselves instead of
pursuing their prey, and they were all killed with
very little difficulty.
The following story of an encounter with a
saucy wolf in the south-western part of the
United States, is taken from the journal of a
Santa Fe trader: "I shall not soon forget an
adventure with a furious wolf, many years ago,
on the frontiers of Missouri. Riding near the
prairie border, I perceived one of the largest and
fiercest of the gray species, which had just de-
scended from the west, and seemed famished to
desperation. I at once prepared for a chase;
and being without arms, I caught up a cudgel,
when I betook me valiantly to the charge, much
stronger, as I soon discovered, in my cause than
in my equipment. The wolf was in no humor
to flee, however, lut boldly met me full half way.
I was soon disarmed, for my club broke upon the
animal's head. He then 'laid to' my horse's
legs, which, not relishing the conflict, gave a
plunge, and sent me whirling over his head, and
made his escape, leaving me and the wolf at close
quarters. I was no sooner upon my feet than



my antagonist renewed the charge; but being
without a weapon, or any means of awakening
an emotion of terror, save through his imagina-
tion, I took off my large black hat, and using it
for a shield, began to thrust it toward his gaping
jaws. My ruse had the desired effect; for after
springing at me a few times, he wheeled about,
and trotted off several paces, and stopped to
gaze at me. Being apprehensive that he might
change his mind, and return to the attack, and
conscious that, under the compromise, I had the
best of the bargain, I very resolutely took to
my heels, glad of the opportunity of making a
drawn game,* though I had myself given the
A friend of mine, who visited Texas a little
while ago, gives quite an interesting account of
a ride he had through an uninhabited part of that
country, where wolves were abundant. He
says: "As there was no road, I was obliged to
take the prairie. My conveyance was a mule,
which is, by the way, the best for a long jour-
ney in this country, as it is far more capable of
endurance than a horse. When I had rode about
five miles, I found that I had lost my course; and
as the sun was clouded, I had no means of guess-
A drawn game at chess, as some of my readers may not
be aware, is one in which neither party is the victor.



ing at the route. But I pushed on, and soon
found myself in a dense grove of live oak. Here
I heard a distinct barking, and thought I must be
near a house. I rode toward the place whence
the noise seemed to proceed, but soon found that
I had committed a most egregious error; for I
was in the very midst of a pack of wolves, con-
sisting of about a dozen. As you may suppose,
I was terribly frightened, though I had heard
that wolves in the country seldom molest any
one traveling on horseback. Still, this interest-
ing party appeared singularly fierce and hungry,
and I opened a large clasp knife, the only avail-
able weapon I had, in order to be prepared for
the contemplated attack. In this way I rode
on about a mile, with the wolves after me, when
the whole force quietly dispersed. After riding
about three hours more, I discovered that I had
been on the wrong track all the time, though 1
was not sure where I was; but it was so dark it
was not safe to go further. So I spread my
cloak on the grass, tied my mule up to a tree,
made my saddle into a pillow, and, thus pre-
pared, lay down for the night. I thought of
wolves and snakes for some time, but being very
tired, soon went to sleep."
The wolf is capable of strong attachments,
and has been known to cherish the memory of a



friend for a great length of time. A wolf be-
longing to the menagerie in London, met his old
keeper, after three years' absence. It was even-
ing when the man returned, and the wolfs den
was shut up from any external observation; yet
the instant the man's voice was heard, the faith-
ful animal set up the most anxious cries; and
the door of his cage being opened, he rushed to-
ward his friend, leaped upon his shoulders, licked
his face, and threatened to bite his keepers on
their attempting to separate them. When the
man ultimately went away, he fell sick, was long
on the verge of death, and would never after
permit a stranger to approach him.
Captain Franklin, in his journal of a voyage
in the Polar seas, mentions seeing white wolves
there, and gives an account which shows the
wolf to be quite a cunning animal. A number
of deer, says the captain, were feeding on a
high cliff, when a multitude of wolves slily en-
circled the place, and then rushed upon the deer,
scaring them over the precipice, where they
were crushed to death by the fall. The wolves
then came down, and devoured the deer at their
When I was quite a little boy, it used to be
the fashion for many people to fill children's
heads with all manner of frightful stories about




wolves, and bears, and gentry of that sort-
stories that had not a word of truth in them, and
which did a great deal of mischief. I remember
to this day, the horror I used to have, when
obliged to go away alone in the dark. Many a
time I have looked behind me, thinking it quite
likely that a furious wolf was at my heels. The
reason for this foolish fear-for it was foolish, of
course-was, that a servant girl, in the employ


of my mother, used to tell me scores of stories
in which wolves always played a very prominent
part. I remember one story in particular, which
cost me a world of terror. The principal scene
in the tale, and the one which most frightened
me, was at the time pictured so strongly on my
imagination, that it never entirely wore off. It


was much after this fashion. The wolf's jaws
were opened wide enough to take a poor fellow's
head in, and fancy pictured that event as being
about to happen scores of times. Indeed, the
nurse told me, over and over again, that unless
I kept out of mischief-which I did not always,
I am sorry to say-I should be sure to come
to some such end. Boys and girls, if you have
ever heard such stories, don't let them trouble
you for a moment. There is not a word of truth
in them. I know how you feel-some of you
who are quite young, and who have been enter-
tained with stories of this class-when any body
asks you to go alone into a dark room. You
are afraid of something, and for your life cannot
tell what. I should not wonder very much if
some of you were afraid of the dark. I have
heard children talk about being afraid of the
dark. You laugh, perhaps. It is rather funny-
almost too funny to be treated seriously. Well,
if it is not the dark, what is it you are afraid of?
Your parents, and others who are older than
you, are alone in the dark a thousand times in
the course of a year. Did you ever hear them
say any thing about meeting a single one of the
heroes of the frightful stories you have heard ?
Do you think they ever came across a ghost, or
an apparition, or a fairy, or an elf, or a witch, or



a hobgoblin, or a giant, or a Blue-Beard, or a
wolf? It makes you smile to think of it. Well,
then, after all, don't you think it would be a
great deal wiser and better to turn all these
foolish fancies out of your head, just as one
would get rid of a company of saucy rats and
mice that were doing mischief in the cellar or
corn-house ? I think so.
Before I have done with the wolf, I must re-
cite that fable of .Esop's, about one who dressed
himself up in the garb of a sheep, to impose upon
the shepherd, but who shared a very different
fate from the one he anticipated.

A wolf, clothing himself in the skin of a sheep,
and getting in among the flock, by this means
took the opportunity to devour many of them.
At last the shepherd discovered him, and cun-


ningly fastening a rope about his neck, tied him
up to a tree which stood hard by. Some other
shepherds happening to pass that way, and ob-
serving what he was about, drew near and ex-
pressed their amazement. "What," says one
of them, "brother, do you make a practice of
hanging sheep ?" "No," replies the other ;
" but I make a practice of hanging a wolf when-
ever I catch him, though in the habit and garb
of a sheep." Then he showed them their mis-
take, and they applauded the justice of the exe-
cution. The moral of this fable is so plain, that
it is quite useless to repeat it.


r all the animals which have been
pressed into the service of man, the
horse, perhaps, is the most useful.
S What could we do without the labor
of this noble and faithful animal? Day
after day, and year after year, he toils on for his
master, seldom complaining, when he is well
treated, seldom showing himself ungrateful to
his friends, and sometimes exhibiting the strong-
est attachment.
The following story is a matter of history, and
is told by one who was a witness of most of the
facts connected with it: During the peninsular
war in Europe, the trumpeter of a French ca-
valry corps had a fine charger assigned to him, of
which he became passionately fond, and which,
by gentleness of disposition and uniform docility,
equally evinced its affection. The sound of the
trumpeter's voice, the sight of his uniform, or the
twang of his trumpet, was sufficient to throw this






animal into a state of the greatest excitement;
and he appeared to be pleased and happy only
when under the saddle of his rider. Indeed he
was unruly and useless to every body else; for
once, on being removed to another part of the
forces, and consigned to a young officer, he reso-
lutely refused to perform his evolutions, and bolt-
ed straight to the trumpeter's station, and there
took his stand, jostling alongside his former mas-
ter. This animal, on being restored to the trum-
peter, carried him, during several of the penin-
sular campaigns, through many difficulties and
hair-breadth escapes. At last the corps to
which he belonged was worsted, and in the con-
fusion of retreat the trumpeter was mortally
wounded. Dropping from his horse, his body
was found, many days after the engagement,
stretched on the ground, with the faithful old
charger standing beside it. During the long in-
terval, it seems that he had never left the trumpet-
er's side, but had stood sentinel over his corpse,
as represented in the engraving, scaring away
the birds of prey, and remaining totally heedless
of his own privations. When found, he was in
a sadly reduced condition, partly from loss of
blood through wounds, but chiefly from want of
food, of which, in the excess of his grief, he could
not be prevailed on to partake.


In a book called "Sketches of the Horse," is
an anecdote which exhibits the intelligence of
this animal in perhaps a still stronger light. A
farmer, living in the neighborhood of Bedford, in
England, was returning home from market one
evening in 1828, and being somewhat tipsy, roll-
ed off his saddle into the middle of the road. His
horse stood still; but after remaining patiently
for some time, and not observing any disposition
in his rider to get up and proceed further, he took
him by the collar and shook him. This had lit-
tle or no effect, for the farmer only gave a grum-
ble of dissatisfaction at having his repose dis-
turbed. The animal was not to be put off by
any such evasion, and so applied his mouth to
one of his master's coat-laps, and after several
attempts, by dragging at it, to raise him upon his
feet, the coat-lap gave way. Three individuals
who witnessed this extraordinary proceeding
then went up, and assisted the man in mounting
his horse.
My father had a horse, when I was a little
boy, that was quite a pet with the whole family.
We called him Jack, and he knew his name as
well as I did. The biography of the old veteran
would be very interesting, I am sure, if any body
were to write it. I do not mean to be his bi-
ographer, however, though my partiality for



him will be a sufficient apology for a slight
Old Jack was a very intelligent horse. He
would always come when he heard his name
called, let him be ever so far distant in the pas-
ture; that is, if he had a mind to come. Of
course, being a gentleman of discernment, he
sometimes chose to stay where he was, and
enjoy his walk. This was especially the case
when the grass was very green, and when the
person who came for him chanced to be a little
green also. Jack had his faults, it cannot be
denied, and among them, perhaps the most pro-
minent one was a strong aversion to being
caught by any body but my father, whom he
seemed to regard as having the sole right to
summon him from the pasture. I used occasion-
ally to try my hand at catching him. In fact, I
succeeded several times, by stratagem only. I
carried a measure containing a few gills of oats
with me into the field; and his love for oats was
so much stronger than his dislike of the catch-
ing process, that I secured him. But after a
while the old fellow became too cunning for me.
He came to the conclusion that the quantity of
his favorite dish was too small to warrant him
in sacrificing his freedom. He had some know-
ledge of arithmetic, you see. Certainly he must



have cyphered as far as loss and gain. One day
I went into the pasture with my bridle concealed
behind me, and just about enough oats to cover
the bottom of my measure, and advanced care-
fully toward the spot where old Jack was quietly
grazing in the meadow. He did not stir as I
approached. He held up his head a little, and
seemed to be thinking what it was best to do.
I drew nearer, encouraged, of course. The
cunning fellow let me come within a few feet of
him, and then suddenly wheeled around, threw
his heels into the air, a great deal too near my
head, and then started off at full gallop, snorting
his delight at the fun, and seeming to say, "I am
not quite so great a fool as you suppose."
Still, old Jack was kind and gentle. My fa-
ther never had any trouble with him, and many
a long mile have I rode after him, when he went
over the ground like a bird. I loved him, with
all his faults; I loved him dearly, and when he
was sold, we all had a long crying spell about it.
I remember the time well, when the man who
purchased our old pet came to take him away.
I presume the man was kind enough, but really
I never could forgive him for buying the horse.
He was rather a rough-looking man, and he
laughed a good deal when we told him he must
be good to Jack, and give him plenty of oats,



.d fC^/ ^
do, ^ "


and not make him work too hard. I went out,
with my sister, to bid our old friend a last sad
good-bye. We carried him some green grass--
we knew how well he loved grass, he had given
us proof enough of that-and while he was eat-
ing it, and the man was preparing to take him
away, we talked to old Jack till the tears stood
in our eyes; we told him how sorry we were to
part with him; and he seemed to be sad, too, for
he stopped eating his grass, and looked at us ten-
derly, while we put our arms around his neck
and caressed him for the last time.
I have had a great many pets since--cats and
dogs, squirrels and rabbits, canary birds and par-
rots-but never any that I loved more than I
did old Jack; and to this day I am ashamed of
the deception I practiced upon him in the matter
of the oats, when trying to catch him. I don't
wonder he resented the trick, and played one or
me in return.
But I am transgressing the rule I laid down
for myself in the outset of these stories-not to
prate much about my own pets. According to
this rule, I ought to have touched much more
lightly upon the life and times of old Jack.
A correspondent of the Providence (R. I.)
Journal, gives an account of a horse in his neigh-
borhood that was remarkably fond of music.



"A physician," he says, "called daily to visit a
patient opposite to my place of residence. We
had a piano in the room on the street, on which
a young lady daily practiced for several hours
in the morning. The weather was warm, and
the windows were open, and the moment the
horse caught the sound of the piano, he would
deliberately wheel about, cross the street, place
himself as near the window as possible, and
there, with ears and eyes dilating, would he qui-
etly stand and listen till his owner came for him.
This was his daily practice. Sometimes the
young lady would stop playing when the doctor
drove up. The horse would then remain quietly
in his place; but the first stroke of a key would
arrest his attention, and half a dozen notes would
invariably call him across the street. I witness-
ed the effect several times."
There was a show-bill printed during the reign
of Queen Anne, a copy of which is still to be
seen in one of the public libraries in England, to
the following effect: "To be seen, at the Ship,
upon Great Tower Hill, the finest taught horse
in the world. He fetches and carries like a
spaniel dog. If you hide a glove, a handker-
chief, a door key, a pewter spoon, or so small a
thing as a silver twopence, he will seek about the
room till he has found it, and then he will bring






it to his master. He will also tell the number
of spots on a card, and leap through a hoop;
with a variety of other curious performances."
The story of Alexander the Great, and his
favorite horse Bucephalus, doubtless most of my
readers have heard before. Bucephalus was a
war-horse of a very high spirit, which had been
sent to Philip, Alexander's father, when the latter
was a boy. This horse was taken out into one
of the parks connected with the palace, and the
king and many of his courtiers went to see him.
The horse pranced about so furiously, that every
body was afraid of him. He seemed perfectly
unmanageable. No one was willing to risk his
life by mounting such an unruly animal. Philip,
instead of being thankful for the present, was
inclined to be in ill humor about it. In the mean
time, the boy Alexander stood quietly by, watch-
ing all the motions of the horse, and seeming to
be studying his character. Philip had decided
that the horse was useless, and had given orders
to have him sent back to Thessaly, where he
came from. Alexander did not much like the
idea of losing so fine an animal, and begged his
father to allow him to mount the horse. Philip
at first refused, thinking the risk was too great.
But he finally consented, after his son had urged
him a great while. So Alexander went up to


the horse, and took hold of his bridle. He patted
him upon the neck, and soothed him with his
voice, showing him, at the same time, by his
easy and unconcerned manner, that he was not
in the least afraid of him. Bucephalus was
calmed and subdued by the presence of Alexan-
der. He allowed himself to be caressed. Alex-
ander turned his head in such a direction as to
prevent his seeing his own shadow, which had
before appeared to frighten him. Then he threw
off his cloak, and sprang upon the back of the
horse, and let him go as fast as he pleased. The
animal flew across the plain, at the top of his
speed, while the king and his courtiers looked
on, at first with extreme fear, but afterward
with the greatest admiration and pleasure.
When Bucephalus had got tired of running, he
was easily reined in, and Alexander returned to
the king, who praised him very highly, and told
him that he deserved a larger kingdom than
Macedon. Alexander had a larger kingdom,
some years after-a great deal larger one-
though that is a part of another story.
Bucephalus became the favorite horse of Alex-
ander, and was very tractable and docile, though
full of life and spirit. He would kneel upon his
fore legs, at the command of his master, in order
that he might mount more easily. A great



many anecdotes are related of the feats of Bu-
cephalus, as a war-horse. He was never willing
to have any one ride him but Alexander. When
the horse died, Alexander mourned for him a
great deal. He had him buried with great so-
lemnity, and built a small city upon the spot of
his interment, which he named, in honor of his
favorite, Bucephalia.
An odd sort of an old mare, called by her
master Nancy, used to go by my father's house,
when I was a child. She was the bearer of
Peter Packer-Uncle Peter, as he was sometimes
called by the good people in our neighborhood-
and he was the bearer of the weekly newspaper,
and was, withal, quite as odd as his mare. As
long as I can remember, Uncle Peter went his
weekly rounds, and for aught I know, he is going
to this day. No storm, or tempest, or snow-
bank, could detain him, that is, not longer than a
day or two, in his mission. He was a very
punctual man-in other words, he always paced
leisurely along, some time or another. Speaking
of pacing, reminds me that the mare aforesaid
belonged to that particular class and order called
pacers, from their peculiar gait. I should think,
too, that the mare was not altogether unlike the
celebrated animal on which Don Quixote rode
in pursuit of wind-mills, and things of that sort



But she had one peculiarity which is not set
down in the description of Rozinante, to wit:
the faculty of diagonal or oblique locomotion.
This mare of Uncle Peter's went forward some-
thing after the fashion of a crab, and a little
like a ship with the wind abeam, as the sailors
would say. It was a standing topic of dispute
among us school-boys, whether the animal went
head foremost or not. But that did not matter
much, practically, it is true, so that she always
made her circuit; and that she did, as I have
said before. Sometimes she was a day or two
later than usual. But that seldom occurred ex-
cept in the summer season; and when it did
happen, it was on this wise: she had a most
passionate love for the study of practical botany;
and not being allowed, when at home, to pursue
her favorite science as often as she wished,
owing partly to a want of specimens, and partly
to her master's desire to educate her in the more
solid branches-he was a great advocate for
the solid branches-she frequently took the
liberty to divest herself of her bridle, when
standing at the door of her master's customers,
and to pace away in search of the dear flowers.
Oh, she was a devoted student of botany! so
much so, that her desire to obtain botanical spe-
cimens did sometimes interfere a good deal with



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