Hector the dog

Material Information

Hector the dog
Series Title:
Snowflake series
Valentine, L ( Laura ), d. 1899
McLoughlin Bros., inc
Place of Publication:
New York
McLoughlin Bros.
Publication Date:
Physical Description:
[16] p. : ill. (some col.) ; 21 cm.


Subjects / Keywords:
Dogs -- Juvenile poetry ( lcshac )
Rescue dogs -- Juvenile poetry ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1889
Bldn -- 1889
Children's poetry
non-fiction ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- New York -- New York
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )


General Note:
Cover title.
Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections ( with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
029589217 ( ALEPH )
25381665 ( OCLC )
AJT8731 ( NOTIS )

Full Text

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Man loves the dog, the dog loves man:
The dog is trusty, strong, andbrave,
And God has on the dog bestowed
The power and will man's life to save.

And often has the tale been told,
How, borne along in eager strife,
While struggling hard to rescue man,
The noble dog has lost his life.

THE little Inn of Martigny "Nay, stay to-night; the way is long;
Had but few guests on Christmas Dark clouds are flitting o'er the sky;
Eve, A storm is brewing, trust my word,-
For men at home made festive cheer, I hear the raven's warning cry.
And cared not household joys to ,
Scared "Come, friend, give up thy toilsome
w alk,
But near the door a traveler stood, And spend thy Christmas with us
Who with his host had earnest talk, here."
With knapsack girt and staff in hand, The landlord spoke with kindly voice,
All ready for a mountain walk. Himself a well-trained mountaineer.
The Baldwin Library
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"Nay, press me not," the man replied; He long'd to spread before their gaze
I must get home by Christmas Day, The honest gains of many a year,
The mountain pass I know right well, Earn'd with hard toil for those he
Its hoary peaks and boulders gray. lov'd
And guarded with a jealous care.
"Ten years ago I left my home
My fortune in the world to seek; His father, with his silver hair;
It seems to me a long, long time His mother, with her kind blue eyes:
Since last I saw these mountains His sisters, little playmates once,-
bleak. Would he their faces recognize?

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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Vespers are over. In the hall So, taking hatchets, torches, ropes,
The monks are gathered round the The monks and dogs together went;
board They make towards the mountain pass,
To celebrate the joyful feast And soon the dogs are on a scent.
With the best cheer their stores
afford. Smelling and sniffing through the storm,
Their noble heads bent to the snow,
The noble dogs are feasting now,
Fed with kind 1h,-ndv and loving care :
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Close followed by the stalwart monks,
SThey bravely up the mountain go.

" Brethren and friends," the Prior said, "Full sure, I guess," said Brother
"The night grows wild, the storm Ralph,
gets high, "Some traveler is out to-night,
The dogs are restless; some must go, And sure I am that for his life
If help is needed, to be nigh. With storm and snow he'll have to
"This night we'll sing our hymn to GoD
With shepherds and the angelic host; And if but once he miss the path,
But you will praise whilst yet you serve Hard by the precipice which win-is,
And by the serving praise Him A fearful sight 'twill be for him
most." The mangled traveler that finds.



First one and then the other down
The mons rush on with breathless Theat fearful steep, with shuddering

speed, cry,
All on the strain, no word they say; They creep, they cringe, they bound,
But as they breast the storm-blasts' they roll,

rage, And now on snow-slip swiftly fly.
With silent earnestness they pry.-saving law commands.
They turn the point, and down below And lands them on the icy sea,

The eager, striving dogs they see, And sharp glad barkings upward send
All on narrow ledge that hangs The tidings of their victory.
Projetig o'er the icy sea. say; They creep, they cringe, they bound,
BuAnd thanks to GoD! the storm is past

There's one way down, but e'en in light, The gentle moon gives out her light
When all is calm, on summer's day, To guide their footsteps down each steep,
While in pursuit of mountain goat, And aid their swing from height to
The hunter dreads that dizzy way. height.



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They reach at length the sea of ice,
Three dogs come bounding to their .... ,
side :
The fourth, brave Hector, where was he \
Hurl'd by the avalanche's slide ?
Hector, they seek, with whine and cries;
Anxious and eager rush the dogs They scratch the appalling mound
To where a face of hopeful glow of snow,
And firm resolve, in death-like swoon, Which, loosen'd from the mountain-
Peers upward from the open'd snow. side,
Had swept them with it down below.
What dogs could do these dogs have
done; Vain work for dogs! vain work for men!
Man's skill and care must do the rest; Thousands of tons of ice and snow,
And sooner far than could be thought Heap'd up in one vast funeral pile
Their efforts with success were blest. Poor Hector hold entombed below.

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


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

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