Year: 1875


CAsPAR was dog, and he lived with
the monks in the monastery of St. Ber-
nard, far up on the Alps-the very high
est dwelling in that range of mountains.
You have all heard of these great ST..
Bernard dogs; but if you have never
seen Caspar you have no idea how grand
dog can be-that is, if he happen to
be now-king.


And Caspar was a king of the snow,
every inch of him.


Now Caspar was not very old dog,
and he had already saved two lives. And
yet he was not proud-or, at any rate,
he did not show it.


In fact, if you had seen him jogging
around the monastery you might never
have thought that he was king of any
kind-much less such an important
monarch as the snow-king. For almost
any intelligent person might make a
pretty good king of the ordinary kind,
but kings Of the snow are very scarce
indeed.


One day it began to snow early in the
morning up on the mountains. 1t did
not snow very hard at first, but people
who were weather-wise thought that
there would be quite a storm after
| awhile.


| As the day wore on it became colder
and colder, and the wind began to freeze
the snow-fakes into little icy Jumps, and
it hurled them like showers of bullets
across the valleys and over the noun
tain-peaks.


Although the wind roared sometimes
around the craggy corners, and showers
Of icy shot would now and then rattle
against some frozen crust of snow, the
mountains seemed quiet, and certainly
they were desolate.


Up ON the mountain sides lay vast
masses Of snow and ice that were grow
ing heavier and heavier as the snow fell
faster and faster These were all ready
to come laundering and crashing down
into the valleys below and seemed only
waiting for the signal to begin their mad
rush down the mountain-side.
| For when these great masses of snow
and ice are piled up in this way in the
Alps it often requires but very little
thing to start them of. Sometimes a
loud word, or the breaking Of stick, or
heavy footstep will jar the air or snow
sufficiently to send an avalanche on its
way.


1t would hardly be supposed that on
such day as this that anyone would be
out of doors; but, notwithstanding the
bad weather and the promise of worse
weather to come, on that afternoon there
were five persons toiling up the road to-
ward the monastery.


-Four of these were men, and one was
boy about fourteen years old. His
name was Paolo Vednatti, and he lived
down the mountain-side, some miles be-
low the place where we find him on this
snowy afternoon.


For day or two Paolo had been very
anxious about stray goat which he be-
lieved could be found up the mountain,
and probably at or near the monastery
of st. Bernard. So when thSt afternoon
four men stopped at Paolo's home to
rest little before continuing their jour
ney over the Alps by way Of the st.
Bernard Pass the boy determined to 60
with them, at least as far as the monas
terry.


He did not say anything to his parents
about his plan. for he had heard his
father tell the men that 1t would be fool
hardy to attempt to cross the mountain
that dsy, when it was mot only showing
but the wind was blowing ct such ter.
rilc rate that it would he certain to starr
IN avalanche somewhere on the road.


Ard you know well enough that i