boys’ department. 
159 
Bogs’ JPfpartment. 
THE NEWFOUNDLAND DOG. 
Fig. 32. 
In Newfoundland, these dogs are remarkably do¬ 
cile and obedient to their masters; are very ser¬ 
viceable on all fishing plantations ; and are yoked 
in pairs, and used to haul home the winter fuel. 
rishes great antipathy to a stranger, or to those who 
wantonly fling at him stones or sticks. He will 
often suffer a cat to play with, and even lie and sleep 
i on his back or side. He is a great enemy to sheep, 
which he seldom hesitates to kill, but partakes 
only of their blood. When very hungry, he will 
not scruple to steal a fowl, a fish, or a piece of 
meat; yet he will watch or guard a carcase of 
beef or mutton belonging to his master, keep off 
other dogs, and never touch it himself. Other¬ 
wise, he will neither attack nor fight a dog 
of inferior size, but growl at snarling curs and 
throw them aside; but with dogs of their own 
strength and size, they fight courageously, and 
will start immediately on hearing other dogs 
fight, to restore peace. So sagacious, indeed, 
are these animals, that they only seem to want 
.the faculty of speech to make themselves fully 
understood; and they are capable of being 
trained to most of the purposes for -which other 
dogs are used. 
We shall close our account of the Newfound¬ 
land dog with the following beautiful epitaph, 
by Lord Byron, on his favorite Boatswain, on 
a monument at Newstead Abbey :— 
INSCRIPTION. 
li NEAR THIS SPOT 
ARE DEPOSITED THE REMAINS OF ONE 
WHO POSSESSED BEAUTY WITHOUT VANITY, 
STRENGTH WITHOUT INSOLENCE, 
They are gentle in disposition, faithful, good-na¬ 
tured, and ever a friend to man, at whose command 
they will leap into the water from the highest pre¬ 
cipice, in the coldest weather. They are remarka¬ 
bly voracious, but, like their Indian masters, can 
endure hunger for a great length of time. In win¬ 
ter, they are usually fed on the worst salted fish ; 
but when summer approaches, and the occupa¬ 
tion of the natives changes to fishing, the poor dogs 
are turned adrift to shift for themselves. 
The true breed of these animals has become 
scarce and difficult to procure. They grow to a 
larger size than an English mastiff, being from 25 
to 27 inches high at the shoulder, long-bodied, 
broad-chested, with a shaggy coat, lined with a fine, 
close fur, a pointed, wolfish muzzle, ears small, 
and inclined to be semi-erect; color of various 
shades, from white to black, but the latter, which 
is most approved, prevails. 
The smooth, short-haired dog, so much admired 
in Europe and in this country, as the Newfoundland 
dog, though a useful and sagacious animal, and 
nearly as hardy, and as fond of the water, is evi¬ 
dently the result of a cross with the mastiff'. He is 
a fine showy dog, sometimes 30 inches in height, 
but is less active, and more apt to display irregu¬ 
larity of temper than the original. The true 
breed, in a wild state, hunts in packs, and is then 
ferocious, and in its habits similar to the wolf. 
Its origin, according to some, it is thought may 
be traced to a large dog still used for hunting the 
bear, by the Norwegians, who, it is well known, 
visited Greenland and Newfoundland before the 
year 1000. 
In a domestic state, the Newfoundland dog is fond 
of children, and much attached to the members of 
the house to which he belongs; but frequently che¬ 
COURAGE WITHOUT FEROCITY, 
AND ALL THE VIRTUES OF MAN WITHOUT HIS VICES. 
THIS PRAISE, WHICH WOULD BE UNMEANING FLATTERY 
IF INSCRIBED OVER HUMAN ASHES, 
IS BUT A JUST TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF 
BOATSWAIN, A DOG, 
WHO WAS BORN AT NEWFOUNDLAND, MAY, 1803, 
AND DIED AT NEWSTEAD ABBEY, NOV. 18, 1808.” 
When some proud son of man returns to earth, 
Unknown to glory, hut upheld by birth, 
The sculptor’s art exhausts the pomp of woe, 
And storied urns record who rests below ; 
When all is done, upon the tomb is seen, 
Not what he was, but what he should have been : 
But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend, 
The first to welcome, foremost to defend, 
Whose honest heart is still his master’s own, 
Who labors, fights, lives, breathes for him alone, 
Unhonor’d falls, unnoticed all his worth, 
Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth : 
While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven, 
And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven. 
Oh man ! thou feeble tenant of an hour, 
Debased by slavery, or corrupt by power, 
Who knows thee well must quit thee with disgust, 
Degraded mass of animated dust! 
Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat, 
Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy words deceit! 
By nature vile, ennobled but by name, 
Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame, 
Ye ! who perchance behold this simple urn, 
Pass on—it honors none you wish to mourn : 
To mark a friend’s remains these stones arise ; 
I never knew but one, and here he lies. 
Newstead Abbey , 1808 . ^ _ 
What boy will make the following experiment? 
—Measure off in an old grass-field, that is not too 
wet, a piece of ground 10 rods one w r ay and 16 rods 
the other. Dig up 160 round patches, two paces 
across and a rod apart from centre to centre. Plant 
a broad hill of pujnpkins, well supplied with fine 
old barn-yard manure. Hoe them well through the 
season, and let the vines run on the grass after the 
hay is cut. 
