THE Saint Bernard dog is very large and strong, with a large head, long hair, and a bushy tail. He is a noble-looking dog, and he is as noble and intelligent as he looks.

His home is among the Alps,-high mountains in Switzerland. There are several very steep and narrow roads, called "Passes," which lead over these mountains into Italy.

There are snow-storms on these mountains even in summer; but in the long winter season they

are extremely violent,* and the passes are then very dangerous.* These storms sometimes come on very suddenly,-often after a bright and pleasant morning. The snow falls so thickly, that in a few hours the traveller is buried beneath the drifts.*

Hundreds of persons have lost their lives in trying to pass over these mountains during the winter season. But many lives have been saved by the sagacity* and kindness of the Saint Bernard dogs.

These dogs take their name from the Convent of Saint Bernard, where they are kept. This house is situated far up in the pass of the Grand Saint Bernard,—one of the most dangerous of the Alpine*

passes.

Here devoted monks live all the year, for the purpose of aiding travellers; and, with the help of their dogs, they are able to save many lives.

The dogs are trained to look for lost travellers; and every day in winter they are sent out, generally in pairs. One has a basket of food and a flask of wine or brandy strapped to his neck; the other has a cloak strapped upon his back. Thus any poor fainting man whom they may find may be at once supplied with food and clothing.

If the man can walk, they lead him towards the convent, barking loudly all the way for help, and to let the monks know that they are coming back. If the man is so faint and benumbed* that he cannot move, they go back to fetch the monks, and guide them to the spot where he is lying.

snow.

Sometimes the traveller is buried deep in the If the monks were alone, they could never find him; but the keen scent of the dogs discovers* him; and they scratch up the snow with their feet, and they bark and howl till the monks come to the spot.

One dog is said to have saved in this way as many as forty-two lives! Its name was Barry, and it was as ingenious as it was brave. Once a woman, who was going up the mountain with her little son, was carried away by a snow-slip.

Barry

found the little boy unhurt, but cold and stiff. He managed, however, to get him on his back; and thus carried him to the door of the convent, where he was taken good care of by the monks.

QUESTIONS.-What are the narrow roads over the Alps called? What makes them very dangerous in winter? How are many persons saved in these mountains? Why is the Saint Bernard dog so called? Who live at the Convent of Saint Bernard? What do the dogs carry with them, when they go out to look for travellers? What do they do if they find a man who can walk? What, if the man cannot walk? How are travellers discovered under the snow? How many lives did Barry save? What did he do with the little boy he found?

It was a clear, cold, winter night,
The heavens were brightly starred,
When on St. Bernard's snowy height
The good monks kept their guard.

And round their hearth, that night, they told
To one, who shelter craved,*

How the brave dog, he thought so old,
Full forty lives had saved;

When suddenly, with kindling eye,

Up sprang the old dog there,
As from afar a child's shrill cry
Rang through the frosty air.

In haste the monks unbarred the door,
Rugs round the mastiffs threw;
And as they bounded forth once more,
Called, "Blessings be with you!"

II.

They hurried headlong* down the hill,
Past many a snow-wreath* wild,
Until the older dog stood still

Beside a sleeping child.

He licked the little icy hand

With his rough, kindly tongue ;

With his warm breath he gently fanned

The tresses fair and long.

The child looked up, with eyes of blue,
As if the whole he guessed;

His arms around the dog he threw,
And sunk again to rest.

Once more he woke, and wrapped him fast
In the warm covering sent:

The dogs then with their charge, at last,
Up the steep mountain went.

' II.

The fire glowed bright with heaped-up logs,
Each monk brought forth a light;
"Good dogs!" they cried, "good dogs, good dogs!
Whom bring you here to-night?"

In with a joyous bound they come—
The boy awoke and smiled:
“Ah me!” the stranger cried, “some home
Mourneth for thee, fair child!”

With morning light the monks and boy
Sought where the village lay-

I dare not try to paint the joy
Their coming gave that day.

QUESTIONS.-What were the monks telling the stranger? What made the old dog spring up? What did the monks throw round the mastiffs? What did they call after them? What did the older dog find in the snow? What did the child do when he awoke the first time? And the second time? What did the stranger say when the boy was brought in? What did the monks do next morning?