552 THE AMERICAN BOOK OF THE DOG. 



Their long hair was their ruin; they perished; and at present there does not 

 exist in the Hospice a single trace of these beautiful dogs of Leonberg. 



As already said, the Count of Rougemont, at Loewenberg, near Morat, 

 possessed a couple of superb dogs, which were presented to him from the 

 Hospice, because they were not good enough for the work on account of their 

 long hair. These dogs were very large and very handsome ; the color of their 

 coats was a red-brown, and they had white spots on their feet, their necks, 

 their breasts, and their noses (? muzzle). They were on the paternal side of 

 the ancient Bernardine race, and on the maternal side of the Newfoundland 

 race. Several litters of puppies were reared from this couple, which were 

 given away and sold, and thus became spread about. In 1854 the female dog- 

 gave birth, among others, to a little puppy of wretched appearance, spotted 

 white and brown, which was not at all valued by the owner. This wretched- 

 looking little puppy was sold as a miserable abortion to Mr. Klopfenstein, of 

 Neunegg, who trained it with care and attention. It prospered marvelously, 

 and growing up, attained a striking likeness to Barry, the most beautiful speci- 

 men of the ancient unmixed race, which is now preserved in the museum at 

 Berne. Its resemblance was so remarkable in regard to external appearance 

 and color of its hair, that when I saw the dog for the first time I resolved to 

 obtain it at whatever sacrifice. 



I bought, then, this dog in 1855, it being a year old, and called it Barry, on 

 account of its striking resemblance to its illustrious ancestor. I entrusted it to 

 Baron Judd, at Glockenthal, near Thun, and both of us reared some young 

 dogs during many years, but without success. Never could we get young dogs 

 resembling the original race until 1863, when a puppy was born from the bitch 

 Weyerman, of Interlaken, of which Barry was the father. This puppy, named 

 Sultan, which was the image of Barry, came into my possession. 



I bred from Sultan without success until I received a bitch from Saint 

 Galles whose father had been one of the St. Bernard dogs. This bitch, named 

 Diana, with Sultan, produced such beautiful puppies that at last I saw my end 

 achieved. At the second birth were two, male and female, so surpassingly fine 

 that I resolved in silence to present them as a gift to the Hospice, in the belief 

 that these dogs, habituated now to the fourth generation to a temperate cli- 

 mate, well selected from generation to generation, would invigorate and 

 regenerate the ancient race with the descendants of its proper blood. The 

 gift was accepted. I took them when they were seven years old, in January, 

 1866, to Martigny, where some of the old brothers pass the winter. The 

 oldest of the monks received me with this exclamation: "Mais, mon Dieu, 

 c'est comme le meux Barry! " (Why, it is exactly like the old Barry! ). I asked 

 him which Barry he alluded to. " Why," said he, " to the one that is stuffed 

 at Berne; " and then he continued to relate that in the year 1815 he had him- 

 self taken Barry, then living, on foot to Berne, where he was killed and stuffed. 

 The old man wept with joy, and said, without ceasing : "(Jo, donnera Barry, 

 le vrai meux Barry; gue je suis heureux ! " (This is Barry, the genuine old 

 Barry; how happy I am!). There are at the present time (1867) at the Hospice 

 some young puppies of Barry that promise well, and which will be, according 

 to all appearances, still finer and larger than Barry himself. 



