﻿THE NEWFOUNDLAND DOG. 43 



cradle of weeds and slime. Seizing her clothes, and holding them 

 last in his teeth, he brought her up to the surface of the water, a 

 very little distance from the boat, over which his master eagerly 

 leant, and, with looks that told the joy of his honest heart, he gave 

 the little Ellen into the hands of her astonished father. Then, 

 swimming back to the shore, he shook the water from his long, 

 shaggy coat, and laid himself down, panting, to recover from the 

 fatigue of his perilous undertaking. 



The delight of the agitated parents, when receiving their child 

 again, was mingled with great alarm ; for Ellen showed no signs of 

 life. Her little face looked deadly pale ; it hung on her shoulder ; 

 her pretty flaxen curls were straight and stiff, and streaming with 

 water, which ran from every part of her clothes. The white frock, 

 and little tippet, and in short every part of her disordered dress, 

 showed that she had sunk into the depth of the dark mud which 

 formed the bed of the river. Wonderful it seemed that the dog could 

 so instantly have found his master's child, and so readily have 

 brought her up within their reach. 



But though Ellen seemed to be dead, signs of life soon became 

 apparent. She opened her blue eyes, and breathed, though with 

 difficulty, and very speedily did the boat move towards the landing- 

 place, whence the company had started, in order to obtain immedi- 

 ate assistance; but even before they reached it, the tender care of 

 the parents had so revived the little girl, that she could both smile 

 and faintly speak. Joyful, indeed, it was, when her voice, even in a 

 low whisper, pronounced words so dear to them; and they had no 

 language with which to express the abounding gladness of their 

 hearts, while, holding little Ellen, wrapped in a warm dry cloak, 

 they watched every sign of returning life. Those who accompanied 

 them in their voyage down the river, shared in the parents' glad- 

 ness ; those especially who had children of their own ; and little 

 Ellen's escape from a dreadful death was told that evening to many 

 of her playfellows, as a subject both of caution and abundant thank- 

 fulness. 



Praising what is lost, makes the remembrance dear. 



