The paths fill suddenly, and but for the dogs many would perish." "Oh, I know," interrupted Lloyd, eagerly.

"There is a story about them in my old third readah, and a pictuah of a big St.Bernard dog with a flask tied around his neck, and a child on his back." "Yes," answered the Major, "it is quite probable that that was a picture of the dog they called Barry.

He was with the good monks for twelve years, and in that time saved the lives of forty travellers.

There is a monument erected to him in Paris in the cemetery for dogs.

The sculptor carved that picture into the stone, the noble animal with a child on his back, as if he were in the act of carrying it to the hospice.