Gallipolis journal. [volume] (Gallipolis, Ohio) 1837-1919, 1874-07-09
"BEVIS." +"
A Tale OF a Dog.

nv OAS 'e' %
ing to start from Geneva. | climbed
to the roof, and chose my place next
the driver; there was still vacant
seat, and the porter called "Monsieur
Dermannw
A tall young man with German
style of countenance, advanced, hold
ing in his arms a large black grey
hound, which he vainly tried to place
on the roof.
"Monsieur," said he, addressing
me, "will you have the kindness to
take my dog"
Bending over, l took hold of the
animal, and placed him on the straw
ut nv feet. / observed that he wore
a handsome silver collar, on which
the following words were tastefully
engraved: "Bevis. l belong to Sir
Arthur Burnley, given him by Miss
Clara"
His owner was, therefore, an Eng
lishman, yet my fellow traveller, who
had now taken his place by my side,
was evidently either Swiss or Ger
man, and his name was Dermann.
Trifing as was the mystery, it excited
my curiosity, and after two or three
hours pleasant conversation had es-
tablished sort of intimacy between
us, ventured to ask my companion
for an explanation.
at does not surprise me-" he an
swered, ''that this collar should puzzle
you; and l have great pleasure in
telling you the story Of its wearer.
Bevis belongs to me, but it is not
many years since he owned another
master, whose name is on the collar.
You will see why he still wears it.
Here, Bevis! speak to the gentle
man."
The dog raised his head, opened
his bright eyes, and, laying back his
long ears, uttered a sound which
might pass for salutation.
Mr.. Dermann placed the animals S
head on his knees and began to un-
fasten his collar.
Instantly Bevis drew back his
head with a violent jerk, and darted
toward the luggage on the hind part
of the roof There, growing fiercely,
he lay down, while his muscles were
stifened, and his eyes glowing with
fury.
"YOu see, monsieur, how determin-
ed he is to guard his collar; | should
not like TO be the man who would
try to rob him of it. Here, Bevis,"
said he, in a soft caressing tone, 81
won't touch it again. poor fellow !
Come and make friendsr'
The greyhound hesitated, still
growing. AT length he returned
slowly toward his master, and began
to lick his hands; his muscles grad
ually relaxed, and he trembled like a
leaf
'There, boy, there" said Mr.. Der
mann, caressing him, "We won't do
it again. Lie down now, and be
quiet"
The dog nestled between his mas
ter's feet, and went to sleep. My
fellow traveller then turning toward
me, began:
81 am native of Suabia, but | live
in little village of the Sherland, at
the foot of the Grimsel. My father
keeps an inn for the reception of
travellers going to St. Gothard.
About two years since there arrived
at our house one evening, young
Englishman, with a pale, sad counte-
nance; he travelled on foot, and was
followed by large greyhound, this
Beyis, whom you see. He declined
taking any refreshments, and asked
to be shown to his sleeping room.
We gave him one over the common
hall where we were all seated around
the fire. Presently we heard him
pacing rapidly up and down; from
time to time uttering broken words,
addressed no doubt to his dog, for the
animal moaned occasionally, as if re-
plying, to, and sympathizing with his
master.
"At length we heard the English
man stop, and apparently strike the
dog blow, for the poor beast gave a
loud howl of agony, and seemed as if
he ran to take refuge under the bed.
Then his master groaned aloud.
Soon afterward he lay down, and all
was quiet for the night. Early next
morning he came down, looking still
more pale than the previous evening,
and having paid for his lodging, he
took his knapsack and resumed his
journey, followed by the greyhound,
who had eaten nothing since their
arrival, and whose master seemed to