News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1884-01-10
ST. BERNARD DOGS.
characteristics of the ADimals-Their ApIi-
tude for Searching for Lost People.

Few if any varieties of dogs command
a wider regard among men and women
than the st. Bernard. There are many
that, for the aptitude with which they
lend themselves to special training for
special purposes, are perhaps more
familiar, and some that, being pecu-
liarly fitted for making pets of, are in one
sense of the word more popular. But,
the sheep dog excepted, there is none
that attracts the same degree and kind
of sympathy as the grand creature of
the Alpine hospice, wherever it may be.
These two species approach, it may be,
more nearly to the best type of human
character than any other. They are
fearless of every enemy and faithful to
every friend. The sheep dog, therefore,
has long held rank at the shepherds
hearth as one of tine household, and its
habits and tastes are almost as punctu-
ally respected as those of any human
member of the family circle. When the
snow blinds the man it does not blind
the dog, and the sheep are driven home
without harm or loss and when the
gudeman goes over the hill for social
glass with friend he takes his collie
with him, for though the whisky may
fiddle the master he knows it will not
i led hHs 2ia AZ tbs eotsags SeeT
similar spirit the ST. Bernard throws in
! its lot with man. The puppies even are
singularly self-respectful They will
play with children, but as comrades and
not as playthings. Only half-g grown
they pass other dogs by as if they were
not dogs themselves, declining all over
lures to romps and disregarding provo
cations to combat. They attach them
selves readily to horses, but above all to
man, and it really seems, studying this
beautiful animal, as if there was some
thing more behind those wonderful ewes
and that wise, good forehead than a
mere brute's brain. They walk up to a
stranger without bluster and without
menace, as if expecting mutual self
respect, escort him to the house door
and await the character of his greeting
with the inmates. If it is cordial the
dog is at once intimate, and, without
invitation, will join the visitor for a
quiet cigar on the terrace or a stroll in
the park. If it is business like, but not
hearty, the st. Bernard goes to its
masters side and allows the stranger to
leave without further recognition, and
cuts him dead the next time they meet.
But If the stranger be of a suspicious
sort, and the lodgekeeper holds him
under cross-examination before admit
ting him to the hall, or vicarage, or
manor house, the dog at once drops be-
hind the intruder, covers his TANKS alter
nately and takes him straight to the
servants door. The interview over.
and, Just as the dog expected, proving
unsatisfactory, it escorts him back to the
lodge gate under the same strict guard.
and, having watched him around the
| corner, turns to the keeper and says, as
plainly as eyes can say anything, ga
rogue that But this, after all, is the
splendid animal in English domestica-
ton, using its great gifts of intelligence
and urbanity in the everyday affairs of
life. 1t Is not the rough, impatient
and yet so gentle-dog that the good old
monks on the Alps have trained to sup
plement human efforts in saving life, by
doing that which men themselves could
not do. For the st. Bernard dogs are
neither for snowstOrm nor avalanche;
but let the weather be what it may, and
the storm ever so furious, they 90
eagerly out with their little barrels of
cordial strapped round their necks and
search for dying travellers. Some unde-
fined and indefinable instinct tells them
where the fallen man lies, and they
scratch away the snow with their large
paws, and find him and lick his face till
the numbed brain responds to the warmth
and then guide the frozen fingers, which
they thaw with their tongues to the life
restoring draught, and then, lying
down ly the body to give its own
warmth of vital heat and fur to the fast
congealing limbs, howl out their cry for
help to the distant monastery, and by
and by the monks hear it, and the dogs
voice guides the wandering lantern to
the life that has TO be saved, and very
soon the monks are busy in the noble
task. One dog alone has thus far saved
forty lives, and instances are on record
OF st. Demands having actually, by
some means or another, raised frozen
children upon their backs and carried
them to the monastery doors.