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CASSELL'S POPULAR NATURAL HISTOKV. 



break of day, tin- faithful creature was found sitting in the very middle of the fold door, on the inside 

 "I' the flake that closed it, with his eyes still steadfastly fixed on the lambs. He had been .so hardly 

 set with them after it grew dark, that he durst not for his life leave them, althougli hungry, fatigued, 

 and cold, for the night had turned out a deluge of rain. He had never so much as lain down ; for only 

 the .small spot that he sat on was dry, and there he had kept watch the whole night ! 



One winter evening, Hogg told his mother that lie was going to Bowerho]>e for a fortnight, 

 adding "But I shall not take Hector with me, for he is constantly quarreling with the rest of the 

 dogs, singing music, or breeding some uproar." His mother replied: "I like aye best to have him at 

 hame, poor fellow." The next morning the waters were in a great flood, and he did not go away till 

 after breakfast; but, when the time came for tying up Hector, he was missing. "I will wager," said 

 Hogg, "that he heard what we were saying yesternight, and has gone off for Bowerhope as soon as the 

 door was opened this morning." 



The Yarrow was so large as to be quite impassable, so Hogg had to go up by St. Mary's Loch, 

 and then across by a boat ; and, on drawing near to Bowerhope, he soon saw that his expectation was 

 realised. Large as the Yarrow was and it appeared impassable for any living creature Hector had 

 swam the river, and was sitting "like a dovekit hen," on a knoll at the east end of the house, waiting 

 his master's arrival with much impatience. No wonder he wrote in after years, when his dog looked 

 as if he feared a loss of favour because his head was "turnin' gray :"- 



"Ah me! O fashion, self, an' pride, 



Mankind hae read me sic a lecture ! 

 But yet it's a' in part repaid 



By thee, my faithful, grateful Hector ! 



" O'er past imprudence, oft alane 



I've shed the saut an' silent tear ; 

 Then, sharin' a' my grief an' pain, 

 My poor auld friend came snoosin' near. 



" Wi' waesome face an' hingin' head, 



Thou wad'st hae press'il thee to my kmv 

 While I thy looks as weel could read, 

 As thou had'st said in words to me : 



" ' (), my dear master, dinna greet, 



What hae I ever done to vex thee ? 

 See here I'm cow'rin' at thy feet, 

 Just tak' my life, if I perplex thee. 



" ' For a' my toil, my wee drap meat 



Is a' the wage I ask of thee ; 

 For whilk I'm oft obliged to wait 

 Wi' hungry wame an' patient e'e. 



" ' Whatever wayward course ye steer ; 



Whatever sad mischance o'ertake ye ; 

 Man, here is ane will haud ye dear ! 

 Man, here is ane will ne'er forsake ye!' 



"Yes, my puir beast, though friends one scorn, 



Whom mair than life I valued dear, 

 An' thraw me out to fight forlorn, 

 Wi' ills my heart do hardly bear, 



" While I hae thee to bear a part 



My scaith, my plaid, and beezle rung 

 I'll 8corn th' unfeeling, haughty heart, 

 The saucy look, and sland'rous tongue. 



"For He who feeds the ravens' young. 

 Let's naething pass He disna see; 

 He'll sometime judge o' right an' wrong, 

 An' aye provide for you an' me." 



A female dog belonged to a shepherd near Dunning, in Perthshire, who had bought eighty sheep 

 at Falkirk for his master. Though the flock had to go seventeen miles through a populous country, 

 he dispatched them under the care of his dog alone. The way in which she discharged her trust, he 

 afterwards gathered from various pel-sons who had noticed her on the road. When she had gone a few 

 miles, she dropped two whelps ; but, faithful to her charge, she drove the sheep on a mile or two 

 further ; then, allowing them to stop, returned for her pups, which she earned for about -two miles 

 in advance of the sheep. Leaving her pups, the collie again returned for the sheep, and drove them 

 onwards a few miles. This she continued to do, alternately carrying her young ones, and taking charge 

 of the flock. She did not, however, succeed in bringing her pups alive to her master's house. 



A shepherd who had to take some mountain sheep from Westmoreland to London, took with 

 him a young sheep-dog who had never made the journey before, and had, in consequence, great difficulty 

 in doing it. Next year, accompanied by the same dog, he brought up another flock, and, on being 

 questioned, said he did much better than before, as his dog now knew the road, and had kept the sheep 

 from going up the lanes and turnings that had caused him then so much trouble. 



In the southern parts of England there are times when we look with pleasure at the snow, as it 

 falls heavily. Far different is it, however, in the northern parts of our country. Those who have 



