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altars, stairways, and columns, and out-of-the-way copper pails, in which she carries the water, and corners lighted through the stained glass of many- we shall find it amusing to watch them for a few colored windows. There are, in all, about five minutes. There are two finely sculptured bronze hundred columns in and about this church. cisterns in the yard, but these are not used now.
In front, ver the principal entrance, we We then go up a grand staircase, and ascend still those four famous bronze horses of St. Mark's, of higher by a stairway called the Scala d'Oro, once which you have already read in St. NICHOLAS. * used only by the nobles of Venice. We now If the Venetian children, or even grown people, wander through the great halls and rooms where do not know what a horse is like, all they have to the doges once held their courts and councils. do is to look up at these high-mettled coursers, Enormous pictures decorate the walls. One which, although rather stiff of limb, have been of them, by Tintoretto, is said to be the largest great travelers, having seen Rome and Constanti-oil-painting in the world. We shall take a look nople, and even visited Paris.
into the dreadful dungeons of which we read so As we come out again into the Piazza, we shall much in Venetian history, and we shall cross the be greatly tempted to stay here, for it is a lively Bridge of Sighs, although we can not enter the place. We certainly must stop long enough to prison on the other side ; the doors there are allow some of our younger companions to feed closed and locked, the building still being used as the pigeons of St. Mark, which, if they see any a prison. of us with the little paper cornucopias filled with Ever so much more shall we do in Venice. We corn, which are sold here to visitors, will come to shall go in gondolas, and see the old dockyards us by the hundreds, settling on our heads and where the ships of the Crusaders were fitted out; we shoulders, and crowding about us like a flock shall visit the Academy of Fine Arts, where we of chickens. For more than six hundred years may study some of the finest works of that most pigeons have been cared for and fed here by the celebrated of all Venetians, the painter Titian; we people of Venice, and as these which we see are the shall take a steamboat to the Lido, an island out at direct descendants of the pigeons of the thirteenth sea where the citizens go to bathe and to breathe the century, they belong to very old families indeed. sea air; we shall go out upon the broad Giudecca,
To the right of the cathedral is the Doges' a wide channel between Venice and one of its palace, and this we shall now visit. We pass under suburbs; we shall explore churches and palaces; a beautiful double colonnade into a large interior and, above all, we shall float by daylight and by court, where, at about four o'clock in the after- moonlight, if there happens to be a moon, over noon, we may see numbers of Venetian girls and the canals, under the bridges, and between the tall women coming to get water from a celebrated and picturesque walls and palaces, which make well or cistern here. Each girl has two bright Venice the strange and delightful city that she is.
By A. C.
Dainty frosty paintings
On the glass :
Sunbeams bright !
We within the cities
Field and tree.
Hill and plain,
On the pane!
ST. NICHOLAS DOG STORIES.
For several years, ST. NICHOLAS has been col- indeed, might be drawn to the reading of the great lecting inaterial for a series of stories, sketches, authors did they but know of the prominent and and anecdotes, illustrating the intelligence, sagac- delightful part that the dog plays in literature. ity, devotion, and usefulness of what the great There is Argus, the hound of Ulysses, of whom naturalist Cuvier calls “the completest, the most Homer writes, who knew his master after twenty singular, and the most useful conquest ever made years of separation ; there are the dogs that Shakby man" — the domestic dog. For ages the dog spere speaks of in many of his plays; while the has been the friend and helper of man. Thou- pages of Scott fairly echo with the barkings and sands of years ago the hound, the greyhound, and bayings of the dogs - Fangs in “ Ivanhoe" and the watchdog were kept in Egyptian homes. Roswal in “The Talisman," Bevis in “Woodstock" More than this, the dog was worshiped, under the and Juno in “The Antiquary,” Wasp and Yarrow name of Anubis, as the god of the Nile, and the and Plato and Hobbie in “Guy Mannering,” brave city of Cynopolis was built in its honor. The Lufra in the “ Lady of the Lake," fifty war-dogs of Corinth saved that famous Gre
“Whom from Douglas' side cian city by detecting and defeating a night attack,
Nor bribe nor threat could e'er divide; though every dog died in the fight. The splendid
The fleetest hound in all the North," Molossian dogs of Alexander the Great would fight only with lions. The plucky little spaniel of Will these and many more give interest and exciteiam the Silent, saved the life of that great prince ment to the stories of this foremost lover of the from his foes. The dogs of St. Malo were the only dog. And who would wish to give up the dogs garrison of that beleaguered city. And many of Dickens : Diogenes, the pet of Florence Domother incidents could be related, telling of the bey, “a blundering, ill-favored, bullet-headed watchfulness, self-denial, and heroism of this faith- dog, with hair all over his eyes, and a comic nose, ful animal, which a poet has well called,
an inconsistent tail, and a gruff voice”; Jip in
“David Copperfield,” the black-and-tan pet of “ The joy, the solace, and the aid of man."
Dora, the "child wife,” and Bull's Eye, the faithful
dog of the ruffian Bill Sykes, in that gloomiest of The world's literature is full of testimonials to gloomy boy stories, “Oliver Twist.” Dr. John the devotion and sagacity of the dog. Boys and Brown's “Rab" is the hero of that most charmgirls would find Robinson Crusoe almost as un- ing of dog stories, “Rab and his Friends,” and is interesting without his dog as without his man a dog that every boy and girl should know, while Friday, and they could better spare some of the Wolf, the companion and friend of poor Rip Van adventurous doings of the Swiss Family Robinson, Winkle, “as henpecked as his master,” is as much than the faithful Turk and Juno, who were at once a feature in Irving's well-known story as is lazy, the protectors, the hunters, and the packhorses of good-for-nothing Rip himself. And so, from that that now classic family. And many a boy and girl, very disreputable Snarleyow, in Captain Marryat's
DR. JOHN BROWN AND
" RAB." story, to the noble Royal in Annie Keany's “Blair
“ But of thee it shall be said,
This dog watched beside a bed Castle”—a book which Mr. Ruskin says contains
Day and night unweary; "the best picture of a perfect child, and of the
Watched within a curtained room, next best thing in creation, a perfect dog”— many
Where no sunbeam brake the gloom
Round the sick and dreary. a book now famous in the world's literature will be found to owe much of its fame to the dog that is
“ Other dogs in thymy dew one of its leading characters.
Tracked the hare, and followed through But “ Truth is stranger than fiction,” and it is
Sunny moor or meadow;
This dog only crept and crept probable that each one of the dogs that become
Next a languid cheek that slept, familiar to us in the works of the great story-writers,
Sharing in the shadow. is a picture of some dog that the story-writer knew.
“ And this dog was satisfied And as you read the ST. NICHOLAS dog stories, –
If a pale thin hand would glide you will agree that the dogs of real life can be as
Down his dew-laps sloping wonderful and as interesting as the dogs of fiction,
Which he pushed his nose within, and that they are as capable of devotion, watchful
After platforming his chin
On the palm left open." ness and care-taking as was Flush, the pretty brown spaniel so dear to Mrs. Browning, and of which she The mute loyalty of pretty little Flush has wrote a well-known poem, including these stanzas: been shown by many another dog, and grat
itude for favors is a trait often exhibited by dogs. along its side where a wound had but recently A remarkable instance of it is given in the follow- healed. But when Fanny looked into its pleading ing sketch, with which this series opens.
eyes, and saw how patiently and with what suffer
ing it maintained its place where it could be seen, 1.- GIPSEY.—THE BIOGRAPHY OF A DOG. and how much it longed for rescue, she decided to
accept it. The gentleman paid the two dollars BY THOMAS W. KNOX.
necessary to obtain the dog's release, and the little ONE day, several years ago, a gentleman, in com- animal was wrapped in the blanket and carried pany with a friend, was searching the dog-pound home by the servant. On the way it barely moved in New York, for a missing retriever. As they its head; it seemed to have abandoned hope, and passed along the rows of boxes where the inmates lay as if half dead in the servant's arms. A bath, of the canine prison were tied, they were greeted good food, and the tender care which Fanny gave with many marks of affection by the animals that it, quickly restored the patient. In a few days, its were hoping to find friends to release them. feet were healed; it began to recover flesh and “Please take me away with you," was plainly strength; its coat grew sleek and soft; new hair expressed by many a pair of doggish eyes; and covered the ugly scar; and by the end of a fortsometimes when the visitors paused to pat the head night it was apparently as well as it had ever of a prisoner, their attentions were so warmly been in its life. Fanny named it “Gipsey," and reciprocated that it was not easy to tear them- the two were the fastest of friends. The dog preselves away. Frequently, as they inoved along the served a friendly though dignified demeanor narrow space between the rows of boxes, some of toward the rest of the household, and lavished its the dogs they left behind were almost frantic in affection upon its young mistress. It obeyed her their despair at being abandoned to the fate awaiting them, which they seemed to realize.
The missing dog was found and rescued. While its owner was settling the terms of its release, the attention of the other gentleman was drawn to a small terrier, of the “black-and-tan” variety, that was balancing itself on the edge of the high board which formed the front of its prison cell.
It was held by a cord, which prevented its jumping to the floor outside; when at the bottom of the box it was invisible, owing to the height of the front, and hence its efforts to retain a position where it could be seen. An attendant rudely pushed the dog inside the box, but it immediately climbed again to the edge of the board and mutely appealed to the stranger for his friendship. The painful attitude, and something in the face of the little terrier, awakened the gentleman's sympathy; he patted and talked to the animal for a few moments, noted the number of its prison, and then hastened away to the house of a friend whose daughter had recently expressed a wish for a pet dog. Fortunately he found the young lady at home.
“Come with me, Fanny,” said he. “I have found a dog for you."
in every way, and seemed constantly to desire to Fanny necded no second invitation, and in please her. Toward strangers it was reserved and a few minutes they were on their way to the shunned familiarity, but if Fanny said, “Go to pound, accompanied by a servant carrying a small the lady,” or “Go to the gentleman," it went withblanket.
out hesitation. At first sight of the terrier, Fanny was disap- It was fully a month after Gipsey's rescue and espointed. The dog was thin and weak; its coat was tablishment in this new home, when the gentleman rough and staring; its feet were all torn and raw who had accompanied Fanny to the dog-pound between the toes from standing so much on the made his first call at her house since that event. edge of the board; and there was a large scar Two or three members of the family were in the
GIPSEY WOULD SIT ERECT AND PATIENTLY WAIT FOR A MORSEL."
parlor when he arrived, but Miss Fanny was in her tainly displayed unusual appreciation and gratiroom. In a few minutes she came to the parlor, tude. She was easily taught to do many things. followed by the usually shy Gipsey. The latter While receiving instruction she looked steadily into looked a moment at the caller, and then at the first Fanny's eyes, as though endeavoring to compresound of his voice, rushed toward him with many hend what was wanted, and to reason out the dedoggish demonstrations of delight. The little creat- sired results. Her previous history was unknown. ure sprang into his arms, licked his face, threw its From time to time she astonished her mistress fore-legs around his neck as though embracing him, and friends by revealing a knowledge of tricks and then, jumping to the floor, went dancing and which were probably learned in her younger days. running about the parlor. Around and around it She knew how to sit erect; Fanny taught her to went, till some of the spectators feared it had lost sit by her side at table, and her dignity and good its senses; every little while it paused and renewed behavior were the admiration of everybody. From its demonstration toward the gentleman, and then time to time she would sit up, with her fore-paws around and around it went again. It did not stop drooping at right angles in front, and patiently again till fairly exhausted with fatigue, and for wait for a dainty morsel. If no attention was the rest of the gentleman's stay the dog sat upon shown her, she would speak in the softest whisper, his knee or lay in his lap, and gazed into his face making hardly a sound beyond that of closing her with wonderfully expressive eyes. Its actions said jaws; repeating this two or three times without as plainly as though spoken words, “I know it success, she would venture upon an audible bark, is to you I am indebted for this nice home and so but it was always as gentle as she could make it. loving a mistress, and I wish to thank you for it.” She never went to the table without being invited, And ever after during the five years of her life with evidently recognizing it as a privilege, and not a Fanny, Gipsey always welcomed him with the same right. She never followed her mistress into the delight, while to other visitors she was, as one street without invitation ; though the door was left might say, doggedly indifferent. The only excep- wide open, she gazed wistfully after Fanny detions she made were to those who had shown her scending the steps, but without attempting to folsome special kindness or attention, and these she low. She perfectly understood the difference never forgot. For example, while Fanny was at between “Gipsey can go,” and “Gipsey must the seaside one summer, Gipsey became separated stay at home,” but even when the former phrase from her on a certain afternoon and returned to was uttered, she always waited for the magic the hotel. A party was about to go on a sailing words, “Come along !” excursion, and Fanny was included, but she feared Fanny cites several instances of the reasoning to lose her dog ; Doctor a gentleman of the powers of the dog. Gipsey slept in a willow basket party, offered to go and bring it.
which contained a soft blanket; one very hot day, “If you will go to the door of my room,” said in the early part of the first summer of her rescue Fanny, mentioning its number, “ you 'll probably from captivity, she found the bed uncomfortable, find Gipsey there. She always runs there when and after vainly trying several times to lie there, she loses me, and she knows the way as well as she sat down in front of the basket, apparently the waiters do."
wondering what made it so warm. For five minThe doctor found Gipsey at the door, but could utes she sat there with her head dropped in medinot persuade her to go with him; he took her in tation ; then she took the blanket in her teeth, his arms and carried her, in spite of several strug- dragged it to the floor, and lay down upon the cool gles, to the dock, where the party was waiting willow with a sigh of satisfaction. Ever afterward Immediately on finding her mistress, Gipsey seemed on hot days she repeated the performance, and to comprehend the situation ; she ran from Fanny with a little instruction from Fanny she learned to to the doctor, and then from the doctor to Fanny, drag the blanket back again if the temperature as though trying to say, “Excuse me, I did n’t fell enough to make her old bed desirable. understand it; I'm so sorry I resisted; I see now She slept at night in her basket in Fanny's room, that you were my friend.” During the whole but at six o'clock in the morning was privileged afternoon she divided her time between the two, to go to the side of her young mistress. As the and when, six or eight weeks later, the doctor clock struck the hour, she left the basket and called at Fanny's city residence, Gipsey recognized went to the bedside. For a long time, Fanny him, and renewed her acquaintance of that day at was puzzled to know how Gipsey knew the hour, the seaside.
but finally discovered that it was by a steamIn playful tricks and ways Gipsey was not spe- whistle on a factory several blocks away. The cially unlike other intelligent dogs, however much whistle was blown at six o'clock as a signal to the Fanny may have believed otherwise, but she cer- workmen; but one night Gipsey mistook the whis