the bit of string, he went into the water, and the dog pulled him. across. After playing about on the other side for some time, they returned in the way they had come; but when Charlie looked for his clothes, he could find nothing but his shoes. The wind had blown all the rest into the water. The dog saw what had happened, and making his little master let go the string, by making believe to bite him, he dashed into the river, and brought out first the coat, and then all the rest in succession. Charlie dressed and went home in his wet clothes, and told his mother what fun he and the dog had had. His mother told him that he did very wrong in going across the river as he had done, and that he should thank God for making the dog take him over and back again safely; for if the dog had made him let go in the river, he would most likely have sunk and been drowned. Charlie said, "Shall I thank God now, mamma?" and he kneeled down at his mother's knee, and thanked God; then getting up again, he threw his arms around the dog's neck, saying, "I thank you too, dear doggie, for not letting me go." Little Charlie became

the celebrated Admiral Sir Charles Napier.

Papa. One of the most remarkable places in the mountains. which separate Switzerland and Italy, is that called the passsage of the mountain Great St. Bernard. Many thousands of persons traverse this road every year, and were it not for the monastery of St. Bernard at the top, it would be impassable in the winter. From November to May, a trusty servant accompanied by a monk

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goes half half way down the mountain every day, in search of travellers. They have with them one or two large dogs trained for the purpose, who will scent a man at a great distance, and find out the road in the thickest fogs and heaviest falls of snow. Suspended from the necks of these noble dogs are little caskets with meat and drink to refresh the weary traveller.

One of the most faithful of these remarkable dogs was called Barry. This celebrated animal is known to have saved the lives of more than forty travellers, who, but for his assistance, must have perished in the snow. If the dog Barry was in time with his succours, the unfortunate were relieved, not only from his bottle, but also by means of the warm garment which his masters tied round his body for this purpose; if he could not by his warm tongue and breath restore sufficient animation, he returned to the convent, and brought, with the utmost expedition, the assistance of one of the inmates.

One day, in his vigilant excursions, Barry found a poor boy asleep and almost frozen to death in the celebrated Glacier of Balsore. Barry warmed the boy, licked him, awoke him, presented him with his restorative bottle, and carrried him on his back to the convent. The boy was restored to his rejoicing parents.

When age had diminished the strength of this sagacious animal, he was sent to Berne, in the hope that he might tranquilly end his usefully-employed days. His old age was, by kind treatment, rendered as comfortable as possible, and after his death his body was carefully buried, and his skin stuffed to imitate nature; and thus he stands, with an action resembling life, decorated with his collar and bottle, in the museum of Berne.

Mary. Sir Thomas Dick Lauder gives a most amusing account of

his dog Bass. He thus writes:-"My St. Bernard was brought home direct from the Great St. Bernard, when a puppy of about four or five months. His bark is tremendous; so loud, indeed, that I have often distinguished it nearly a mile off. He had been missing for some time; when, to my great joy, one of the letter-carriers brought him back; and the man's account was, that in going along a certain street, he heard his bark from the inside of a yard, and knew it immediately. He knocked at the gate, and said to the owner of the premises, 'You have got Sir Thomas Lauder's big dog.' The man denied it. 'But I know you have,' continued the letter-carrier, 'I can swear that I heard the bark of Sir Thomas's big dog; for there is no dog in, or about all Edinburgh, that has such a bark.' At last, with great reluctance, the man gave up the dog to the letter-carrier, who brought him home here. But though Bass's bark is so terrific, he is the bestnatured and most playful dog I ever saw; so much so, indeed, that the small King Charles's spaniel, Raith, used to tyrannize over him for many months after he came here from abroad. I have seen the little creature run furiously at the great animal when gnawing a bone, who instantly turned himself submissively over on his back, with all his legs in the air, whilst Raith, seizing the bone, would make the most absurd and unavailing attempts to bestride the enormous head of his subdued companion, with the most ludicrous affectation of the terrible growling, that might bespeak the loftiest description of dog-indignation. When a dog attacks Bass in the street or road, he runs away rather than quarrel; but when compelled to fight by any perseverance in the attacking party, he throws his enemy down in a moment, and then, without biting him, he lays his whole immense bulk down upon him, till he nearly smothers him. He took a particular fancy for

one of the postmen who deliver letters here, whose duty it was, besides delivering letters, to carry a letter bag from one receiving house to another, and this bag he used to give Bass to carry. Bass always followed that man through all the villas in this neighbourhood where he had deliveries to make, and he invariably parted with him opposite to the gate of the Convent of St. Margaret's and returned home. When our gate was shut here to prevent his following the postman, the dog always leaped a high wall to get after him. One day, when the postman was ill, or detained by some accidental circumstance, he sent a man in his place. Bass went up to the man, curiously scanning his face, whilst the man rather retired from the dog, by no means liking his appearance. But as the man left the place, Bass followed him, showing strong symptoms that he was determined to have the post-bag. The man did all he could to keep possession of it. But at length Bass, seeing that he had no chance of getting possession of the bag by civil entreaty, raised himself on his hind legs, and putting a great fore-paw on each of the man's shoulders, he laid him flat on his back in the road, and quietly picking up the bag, he proceeded peaceably on his wonted way. The man, much dismayed, arose and followed the dog, making, every now and then, an effectual attempt to coax him to give up the bag. At the first house he came to, he told his fears, and the dilemma he was in, but the people comforted him by telling him that the dog always carried the bag. Bass walked with the man to all the houses at which he delivered letters, and along the road till he came to the gate of St. Margaret's, where he dropped the bag and returned home."