Cliffy, the Beautiful Newfoundland Dog 135 



Throwing away the big club, I fearlessly 

 met him half-way and at once began strok- 

 ing the great head, on which I had, such a 

 short time before, rained such heavy blows. 

 Jack was conquered, and so was Cuffy, and 

 from that day forward, my word was law, 

 and never again did either of them receive 

 a blow. 



The writing of these battles with my 

 noble dog has been the most unpleasant part 

 of my work. Some readers may perhaps 

 chide me as having been too severe in my 

 methods. But it must be remembered that 

 in such conflicts the man or the dog must 

 be the master. The punishment at the time 

 seemed severe but it never had to be re- 

 peated. For eleven years Jack was obedient 

 and true, and never after that last battle 

 was he struck again. 



As might have been expected from her 

 Newfoundland origin, Cuffy was very fond 

 of the water. She was a splendid swimmer, 

 and with Jack as her companion spent sev- 

 eral hours each day in the lake, on the 

 shores of which we dwelt, during the few 

 warm months of our brilliant summer. She 

 would generally remain in the water long 

 after Jack had felt that he had had quite 



