Daily Los Angeles herald., 1883-12-04
The LASTST. BERNARD
BY 1. P. T.


and the speaker sighed as he
puffed out great cloud Of smoke
fiom loug-steammsd sd pipe.
Ii was DR.. Hans Frolico, Q re-
cently-arrived German physician
who made this remark. A pleas
ant faced looking student was this
German physician, with a rosy
countenance that was just nov
tinged with deep shade of re-
gret. He was speaking OF the
bench show.
Those dogs" said he, care
ine animals, but they are moi
true st. Bernards. They are only
crosses, as the pure breed became
extinct forty years ago in the
death OF the last and noblesf
specimen of his race. Barry was
bis name, and i knew him well
in my boyish days. he was only
dog, but be had the brains of a
man, and more than his heart
He was old when he died, but be
was as full OF honors as of years.
and he met his death at the hands
OF fool Englishman after he had
saved nine-and-forty lives.
Barry was the property Of a
monastery on Mont Blanc. The
brotherhood was more than or
dinarily pious one, and the old
monks loved the dog almost as
we'll as il he had been one Of their
own number. Well they might,
for his like had never been seen
before, as it was never to be
again. He had been brought up
by them from the time he was
whimpering puppy up to the days
OF his useful middle-aged dog
hood. The kennel which shelter
ed him first was the one where
all his days we're passed. He
grew up among the monks aud
their fat abbot, and took his food
from their hands fondly and CRATE
fully.
'sHis life was not an idle one.
Formerly the monastery had own
ed something over a dozen Of the
pure breed, but death from age
and acc dent cut them down one
by one till Barry was left the sole
survivor and a very king Of his
race. Not but what there were
many others, but they were part
ly sprung from mongrel stock,
and were larger and heavier,
though useful animals enough
This particular dog Of which I am
speaking needs northing more
than the rudiments OF training.
1t seems as if the wonderful in
stinct of his ancestors had all
passed into that shaggy head OF
his. and all their fidelity into his
heart. Many a time have heard
the good old M inks dwell on his
virtues. When he was only
year old he had distinguished
himself by saving the life of a
Young child which had been over
whelmed in the drifts, spared
from the fate which carried its
mother 10 the depths Of the alb, ss
on whose edge the babe was
lodged. His race was always
celebrated for their strength and
endurance, but his was somewhat
extraordinary. Many time has
he made his way back to the hos
pital OF tthe monks, carry
ing some bennmbed traveller
onhis ls,k with wlon he
had struggled all the toilsome
day over the snow drifts.
Not one, but many such were his
performances, and if ever q ,te
deserved canonization be did, for
he met with a martyrs death.
Forty years ago he died.
The winter had been one OF the
coldest and severest ever known
in Switzerland, and many a guest
had reason to be thankful for the
accommodations Of the old mon
astery and its fat abbot. Barry
was getting old then, but he was
hale and hearty as ever. One
morning, after O violent night,
during which two avalanches had
fallen and buried the narrow
road that clim bed the sides of the
mountain, be was sent out to see
if, psrchance, he might, as he
had done nine and-forty times be-
fore, rescue some buried traveller
from the drifts. A roll Of warm
blankets was strapped on his
back, his barbed collar was put
on bis neck, a hunters flask OF
liquor was attached, and the good
monks sent HIM out with their
prayers and bless ings. He never
came back alive.
About a nile from the mon.
astery he came to O freshly-fallen
avalanche in the narrow road.
L.