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TWO BIG DOGS AND A LITTLE ONE 



Nobody who has ever been the master of a huge, good- 

 natured, silent Newfoundland dog, could bear to have a 

 little fretful, yapping creature as his daily companion, 

 however beautiful it might be. A Newfoundland is large 

 and awkward ; he waddles along in a very ungraceful 

 manner, and he will probably never think of moving for 

 visitors, if he takes a fancy to stretch his great body on 

 your doorstep ; but he is so strong that the most timid 

 woman would feel quite safe in his care, and so silent 

 that one growl from him rouses the soundest sleeper to 

 a sense of danger. He has webbed feet, and can swim 

 like a duck, and in many places he is almost as good as 

 a life-boat. 



Big though he is, a Newfoundland dog is full of life 

 and spirits ; full, too, of affection for his master, whom 

 he is always anxious to help and defend. He is easily 

 taught, and untiring in his efforts to carry out his master's 

 wishes, never interfering or quarrelling unless he (or 

 still more, his master) is first attacked, but always on 

 the look out for danger to those whom he loves. 



In their own country, Newfoundland dogs play the 

 part that oxen do in Italy, or horses elsewhere* And 

 more ; for, wherever they know the road, they can be 

 trusted to draw their carts or sledges piled with wood 

 or hay without being watched by a driver. When they 

 arrive at home they are given their dinner, generally of 

 dried fish, which they much prefer to any other dainties, 



R T 



