HARPER’S
STORY BOOKS
No. 1
BRUNO.
[Illustration]
DECEMBER, 1854.
PRICE 25 Cts
HARPER & BROTHERS
FRANKLIN SQUARE, NEW YORK.
[Illustration: “Bruno forgives him, and why should not I?” said Hiram.]
HARPER’S STORY BOOKS.
A SERIES OF NARRATIVES, DIALOGUES, BIOGRAPHIES, AND TALES,
FOR THE INSTRUCTION AND ENTERTAINMENT
OF THE YOUNG.
BY
JACOB ABBOT.
Embellished with
NUMEROUS AND BEAUTIFUL ENGRAVINGS.
BRUNO;
OR,
LESSONS OF FIDELITY, PATIENCE, AND SELF-DENIAL
Taught by a Dog.
NEW YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS.
Entered, according to an Act of Congress, in the year one
thousand eight hundred and fifty-four, by
HARPER & BROTHERS,
in the Clerk’s Office for the Southern District of New York.
PREFACE.
The present volume is the first of a proposed monthly series of story
books for the young.
The publishers of the series, in view of the great improvements which
have been made within a few years past in the means and appliances of
the typographical art, and of the accumulation of their own facilities
and resources, not only for the manufacture of such books in an
attractive form, and the embellishment of them with every variety
of illustration, but also for the circulation of them in the widest
manner throughout the land, find that they are in a condition to make a
monthly communication of this kind to a very large number of families,
and under auspices far more favorable than would have been possible at
any former period. They have accordingly resolved on undertaking the
work, and they have intrusted to the writer of this notice the charge
of preparing the volumes.
The books, though called story books, are not intended to be works of
amusement merely to those who may receive them, but of substantial
instruction. The successive volumes will comprise a great variety,
both in respect to the subjects which they treat, and to the form and
manner in which the subjects will be presented; but the end and aim
of all will be to impart useful knowledge, to develop the thinking
and reasoning powers, to teach a correct and discriminating use of
language, to present models of good conduct for imitation, and bad
examples to be shunned, to explain and enforce the highest principles
of moral duty, and, above all, to awaken and cherish the spirit of
humble and unobtrusive, but heartfelt piety. The writer is aware of the
great responsibility which devolves upon him, in being thus admitted
into many thousands of families with monthly messages of counsel and
instruction to the children, which he has the opportunity, through the
artistic and mechanical resources placed at his disposal, to clothe in
a form that will be calculated to open to him a very easy access to
their attention, their confidence, and their hearts. He can only say
that he will make every exertion in his power faithfully to fulfill his
trust.
JACOB ABBOTT.
New York, 1854.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
THE COMBAT WITH THE WOLF 13
COMBAT WITH A BOAR 16
JOOLY 19
THE EMIGRANTS 32
THE VOYAGE 34
GOING ALONE 38
SILVER BOWL STOLEN 41
THE SILVER BOWL RECOVERED 52
BRUNO AND THE LOST BOY 62
BOYS ADRIFT 84
BRUNO AND THE ROBIN 97
BURNING OF THE TOOL-HOUSE 120
WILLING TO LEARN 129
PANSITA 135
THE DOG’S PETITION 140
THE STORM ON THE LAKE 143
TAKING AN INTEREST 151
ENGRAVINGS
PAGE
THE TOOL-HOUSE ON FIRE _Frontispiece._
COMBAT WITH THE WOLF 15
THE TWO BOARS 17
COMBAT WITH A BOAR 18
THE CHAMOIS HUNTERS 20
CHILDREN IN THE GROVE 21
BRUNO IN THE SNOW 28
THE COTTAGE 30
BRUNO ON WOLF-SKIN 31
THE EMIGRANTS 33
THE BEGINNING OF THE VOYAGE 35
THE STORM 36
THE END OF THE VOYAGE 37
THE PARTING 39
THE GIPSY CAMP 43
FORTUNE TELLING 51
FRANK AND LORENZO 58
THE PARLOR DOGS 63
VARIETY 64
THE WATCH-DOG 66
THE GATEWAY IN THE WOOD 71
TONY LOST 75
THE PIER 88
THE PORT 94
RALPH AND THE ROBIN 101
HIRAM’S SQUIRREL 104
THE SLY FOX 109
WILLING TO LEARN 132
THE STORM ON THE LAKE 146
BRUNO WATCHING 149
PLAY 150
BRUNO AND THE SHEEP 158
BRUNO.
THE COMBAT WITH THE WOLF.
[Sidenote: The hunter alarmed.]
In the night, a hunter, who lived in a cottage among the Alps, heard a
howling.
“Hark!” said he, “I heard a howling.”
His wife raised her head from the pillow to listen, and one of the two
children, who were lying in a little bed in the corner of the room,
listened too. The other child was asleep.
“It is a wolf,” said the hunter.
“In the morning,” said the hunter, “I will take my spear, and my
sheath-knife, and Bruno, and go and see if I can not kill him.”
Bruno was the hunter’s dog.
The hunter and his wife, and the child that was awake, listened a
little longer to the howling of the wolf, and then, when at length the
sounds died away, they all went to sleep.
[Sidenote: Prepares for a hunt.]
In the morning the hunter took his spear, and his sheath-knife, and his
hunting-horn besides, and then, calling Bruno to follow him, went off
among the rocks and mountains to find the wolf.
[Sidenote: Discovers the animal.]
While he was climbing up the mountains by a steep and narrow path,
he thought he saw something black moving among the rocks at a great
distance across the valley. He stopped to look at it. He looked at it
very intently.
At first he thought it was the wolf. But it was not the wolf.
[Sidenote: The hunter blows his horn.]
Then he thought it was a man. So he blew a loud and long blast with his
horn. He thought that if the moving thing which he saw were another
man, he would answer by blowing _his_ horn, and that then, perhaps, he
would come and help the hunter hunt the wolf. He listened, but he heard
no reply. He heard nothing but echoes.
By-and-by he came to a stream of water. It was a torrent, flowing
wildly among the rocks and bushes.
“Bruno,” said the hunter, “how shall we get across this torrent?”
Bruno stood upon a rock, looking at the torrent very earnestly, but he
did not speak.
“Bruno,” said the hunter again, “how shall we get across this torrent?”
Bruno barked.
[Sidenote: The rude bridge.]
The hunter then walked along for some distance on the margin of the
stream, and presently came to a place where there was a log lying
across it. So he and Bruno went over on the log. Bruno ran over at
once. The hunter was at first a little afraid to go, but at last he
ventured. He got across in safety. Here the hunter stopped a few
minutes to rest.
[Sidenote: The wolf discovered.]
He then went on up the mountain. At last Bruno began to bark and to
run on forward, looking excited and wild. He saw the wolf. The hunter
hastened forward after him, brandishing his spear. The wolf was in a
solitary place, high up among the rocks. He was gnawing some bones. He
was gaunt and hungry. Bruno attacked him, but the wolf was larger and
stronger than he, and threw him back with great violence against the
ground. The dog howled with pain and terror.
[Illustration: Picture of the combat.]
[Sidenote: Bruno’s courage. The wolf is killed.]
The man thrust the spear at the wolf’s mouth, but the ferocious beast
evaded the blow, and seized the shaft of the spear between his teeth.
Then the great combat came on. Very soon the dog sprang up and seized
the wolf by the throat, and held him down, and finally the man killed
him with his spear.
Then he took his horn from his belt, and blew a long and loud blast in
token of victory.
[Sidenote: What became of the skin of the wolf.]
He took the skin of the wolf, and carried it home. The fur was long,
and gray in color. The hunter tanned and dressed the skin, and made it
soft like leather. He spread it down upon the floor before the fire
in his cottage, and his children played upon it. Bruno was accustomed
to lie upon it in the evening. He would lie quietly there for a long
time, looking into the fire, and thinking of the combat he had with
the savage monster that originally wore the skin, at the time when he
fought him on the mountains, and helped the hunter kill him.
* * * * *
The hunter and the hunter’s children liked Bruno very much before, but
they liked him more than ever after his combat with the wolf.
COMBAT WITH A BOAR.
Some wild animals are so ferocious and strong that it requires several
dogs to attack and conquer them. Such animals are found generally in
remote and uninhabited districts, among forests and mountains, or in
countries inhabited by savages.
[Sidenote: Habits of the boar.]
The wild boar is one of the most terrible of these animals. He has long
tusks projecting from his jaws. These serve him as weapons in attacking
his enemies, whether dogs or men. He roams in a solitary manner
among the mountains, and though he is very fierce and savage in his
disposition, he will seldom molest any one who does not molest him. If,
when he is passing along through the forests, he sees a man, he pays
no regard to him, but goes on in his own way. If, however, when he is
attacked by dogs, and is running through the forest to make his escape,
he meets a man in his way, he thinks the man is the hunter that has
set the dogs upon him, or at least that he is his enemy. So he rushes
upon him with terrible fury, and kills him--sometimes with a single
blow--and then, trampling over the dead body, goes on bounding through
the thickets to escape from the dogs.
[Illustration: Picture of a fight.]
[Sidenote: The tusks.]
Wild boars often have dreadful combats with each other. In this
engraving we have a representation of such a fight. The weapons with
which they fight are sharp tusks growing out of the under jaw. With
these tusks they can inflict dreadful wounds.
Savages, when they attack the wild boar, arm themselves with spears,
and station themselves at different places in the forest, where they
think the boar will pass. Sometimes they hide themselves in thickets,
so as to be ready to come out suddenly and attack the boar when the
dogs have seized him.
[Illustration: Picture of the combat.]
[Sidenote: The dogs and the boar. The spears.]
Here is a picture of such a combat. The dogs have pursued the boar
through the woods until he begins to be exhausted with fatigue and
terror. Still, he fights them very desperately. One he has thrown down.
He has wounded him with his tusks. The dog is crying out with pain and
fright. There are three other dogs besides the one who is wounded. They
are endeavoring to seize and hold the boar, while one of the hunters
is thrusting the iron point of his spear into him. Two other hunters
are coming out of a thicket near by to join in the attack. One of them
looks as if he were afraid of the boar. He has good reason to be afraid.
[Sidenote: Savages dress themselves in skins.]
These hunters are savages. They are nearly naked. One of them is
clothed with a skin. I suppose, by the claws, that it is a lion’s skin.
He hunted and killed the lion, perhaps, in the same way that he is now
hunting and killing the boar.
Savages use the skins of beasts for clothing because they do not know
how to spin and weave.
But we must now go back to Bruno, the Alpine hunter’s dog that killed
the wolf, and who used afterward to sleep before the fire in the
hunter’s cottage on the skin.
JOOLY.
[Sidenote: The Alps.]
Bruno’s master lived among the Alps. The Alps are very lofty mountains
in Switzerland and Savoy.
[Sidenote: Chamois hunting.]
The upper portions of these mountains are very rocky and wild. There
are crags, and precipices, and immense chasms among them, where it
is very dangerous for any one to go. The hunters, however, climb up
among these rocks and precipices to hunt the chamois, which is a small
animal, much like a goat in form and character. He has small black
horns, the tips of which turn back.
The chamois climbs up among the highest rocks and precipices to feed
upon the grass which grows there in the little nooks and corners. The
chamois hunters climb up these after him. They take guns with them,
in order to shoot the chamois when they see one. But sometimes it is
difficult for them to get the game when they have killed it, as we see
in this engraving. The hunters were on one side of a chasm and the
chamois on the other, and though he has fallen dead upon the rocks,
they can not easily reach him. One of the hunters is leaning across
the chasm, and is attempting to get hold of the carcass with his right
hand. With his left hand he grasps the rock to keep himself from
falling. If his hand should slip, he would go headlong down into an
awful abyss.
[Illustration: Picture of the chamois hunters on the Alps.]
The other hunter is coming up the rock to help his comrade. He has his
gun across his shoulder. Both the hunters have ornamented their hats
with flowers.
The chamois lies upon the rock where he has fallen. We can see his
black horns, with the tips turned backward.
[Sidenote: The lower slopes of the mountains.]
In the summer season, the valleys among these Alpine mountains are very
delightful. The lower slopes of them are adorned with forests of fir
and pine, which alternate with smooth, green pasturages, where ramble
and feed great numbers of sheep and cows. Below are rich and beautiful
valleys, with fields full of flowers, and cottages, and pretty little
gardens, and every thing else that can make a country pleasant to
see and to play in. There are no noxious or hurtful animals in these
valleys, so that there is no danger in rambling about any where in
them, either in the fields or in the groves. They must take care of the
wet places, and of the thorns that hide among the roses, but beyond
these dangers there is nothing to fear. In these valleys, therefore,
the youngest children can go into the thickets to play or to gather
flowers without any danger or fear; for there are no wild beasts, or
noxious animals, or poisonous plants there, or any thing else that can
injure them.
[Illustration: Children at play.]
[Sidenote: Winter in the Alps.]
Thus the country of the Alps is very pleasant in summer, but in winter
it is cold and stormy, and all the roads and fields, especially in
the higher portions of the country, are buried up in snow. Still, the
people who live there must go out in winter, and sometimes they are
overtaken by storms, and perish in the cold.
[Sidenote: Scene in the hunter’s cottage.]
Once Bruno saved his master’s life when he was thus overtaken in a
storm. The baby was sick, and the hunter thought he would go down in
the valley to get some medicine for him. The baby was in a cradle. His
grandmother took care of him and rocked him. His mother was at work
about the room, feeling very anxious and unhappy. The hunter himself,
who had come in tired from his work a short time before, was sitting
in a comfortable easy-chair which stood in the corner by the fire. The
head of the cradle was near the chair where the hunter was sitting.[1]
[1] For the positions of the chair and cradle in the hunter’s
cottage, see engraving on page 30.
“George,” said the hunter’s wife, “I wish you would look at the baby.”
George leaned forward over the head of the cradle, and looked down upon
the baby.
“Poor little thing!” said he.
“What shall we do?” said his wife. As she said this she came to the
cradle, and, bending down over it, she moved the baby’s head a little,
so as to place it in a more comfortable position. The baby was very
pale, and his eyes were shut. As soon as he felt his mother’s hand upon
his cheek, he opened his eyes, but immediately shut them again. He was
too sick to look very long even at his mother.
[Sidenote: Consultation between the hunter and his wife.]
“Poor little thing!” said George again. “He is very sick. I must go to
the village and get some medicine from the doctor.”
“Oh no!” said his wife. “You can not go to the village to-night. It is
a _dreadful_ storm.”
“Yes,” said the hunter, “I know it is.”
“The snow is very deep, and it is drifting more and more,” said his
wife. “It will be entirely dark before you get home, and you will lose
your way, and perish in the snow.”
The hunter did not say any thing. He knew very well that there would be
great danger in going out on such a night.
“You will get lost in the snow, and die,” continued his wife, “if you
attempt to go.”
[Sidenote: A hard alternative.]
“And baby will die, perhaps, if I stay at home,” said the hunter.
The hunter’s wife was in a state of great perplexity and distress. It
was hard to decide between the life of her husband and that of her
child. While the parents were hesitating and looking into the cradle,
the babe opened its eyes, and, seeing its father and mother there,
tried to put out its little hands to them as if for help, but finding
itself too weak to hold them up, it let them drop again, and began to
cry.
“Poor little thing!” said the hunter. “I’ll go--I’ll go.”
The mother made no more objection. She could not resist the mute appeal
of the poor helpless babe. So she brought her husband his coat and cap,
and forced her reluctant mind to consent to his going.
It was strange, was it not, that she should be willing to risk the life
of her husband, who was all the world to her, whose labor was her life,
whose strength was her protection, whose companionship was her solace
and support, for the sake of that helpless and useless baby?
It was strange, too, was it not, that the hunter himself, who was
already almost exhausted by the cold and exposure that he had suffered
during the day, should be willing to go forth again into the storm, for
a child that had never done any thing for him, and was utterly unable
to do any thing for him now? Besides, by saving the child’s life, he
was only compelling himself to work the harder, to procure food and
clothing for him while he was growing up to be a man.
What was the baby’s name?
His name was Jooly.
At least they called him Jooly. His real name was Julien.
[Sidenote: The hunter bids little Jooly good-by.]
When the hunter was all ready to go, he came to the cradle, and,
putting his great rough and shaggy hand upon the baby’s wrist, he said,
“Poor little Jooly! I will get the doctor himself to come and see you,
if I can.”
So he opened the door and went out, leaving Jooly’s grandmother rocking
the cradle, and his mother at work about the room as before.
When the hunter had gone out and shut the door, he went along the side
of the house till he came to a small door leading to his cow-house,
which was a sort of small barn.
[Sidenote: He calls Bruno.]
He opened the door of the cow-house and called out “BRUNO!”
Bruno, who was asleep at this time in his bed, in a box half filled
with straw, started up on hearing his master’s voice, and, leaping over
the side of the box, came to his master in the storm.
[Sidenote: Bruno’s bed.]
Bruno was glad to be called. And yet it was a dark and stormy night.
The wind was blowing, and the snow was driving terribly. On the other
hand, the bed where he had been lying was warm and comfortable. The
cow was near him for company. He was enjoying, too, a very refreshing
sleep, dreaming of races and frolics with other dogs on a pretty green.
All this repose and comfort were disturbed. Still, Bruno was glad.
He perceived at once that an unexpected emergency had occurred, and
that some important duty was to be performed. Bruno had no desire to
lead a useless life. He was always proud and happy when he had any
duty to perform, and the more important and responsible the duty was,
the more proud and happy it made him. He cared nothing at all for any
discomfort, fatigue, or exposure that it might bring upon him.
[Sidenote: A comparison.]
Some boys are very different from Bruno in this respect. They do not
share his noble nature. They never like duty. All they like is ease,
comfort, and pleasure. When any unexpected emergency occurs, and they
are called to duty, they go to their work with great reluctance, and
with many murmurings and repinings, as if to do duty were an irksome
task. I would give a great deal more for a _dog_ like Bruno than for
such a boy.
[Sidenote: The hunter and Bruno in the snow.]
Bruno and his master took the road which led to the village. The hunter
led the way, and Bruno followed. The road was steep and narrow, and
in many places the ground was so buried in snow that the way was very
difficult to find. Sometimes the snow was very soft and deep, and the
hunter would sink into it so far that he could scarcely advance at
all. At such times Bruno, being lighter and stronger, would wallow on
through the drift, and then look back to his master, and wait for him
to come, and then go back to him again, looking all the time at the
hunter with an expression of animation and hope upon his countenance,
and wagging his tail, as if he were endeavoring to cheer and encourage
him. This action had the effect, at any rate, of encouragement. It
cheered the hunter on; and so, in due time, they both arrived safely at
the village.
The doctor concluded, after hearing all about the case, that it would
not be best for him to go up the mountain; but he gave the hunter some
medicine for the baby.
[Sidenote: The hunter attempts to return to the cottage.]
The medicine was put in a phial, and the hunter put the phial in his
pocket. When all was ready, the hunter set out again on his return home.
[Sidenote: Difficulties in the way.]
It was much harder going up than it had been to come down. The road was
very steep. The snow, too, was getting deeper every hour. Besides, it
was now dark, and it was more difficult than ever to find the way.
At last, when the hunter had got pretty near his own cottage again, his
strength began to fail. He staggered on a little farther, and then he
sank down exhausted into the snow. Bruno leaped about him, and rubbed
his head against his master’s cheek, and barked, and wagged his tail,
and did every thing in his power to encourage his master to rise and
make another effort. At length he succeeded.
“Yes,” said the hunter, “I’ll get up, and try again.”
[Sidenote: Getting lost.]
So he rose and staggered feebly on a little farther. He looked about
him, but he could not tell where he was. He began to feel that he was
lost. Now, whenever a man gets really lost, either in the woods or in
the snow, a feeling of great perplexity and bewilderment generally
comes over his mind, which almost wholly deprives him of the use of
his faculties. The feeling is very much like that which one experiences
when half awake. You do not know where you are, or what you want, or
where you want to go. Sometimes you scarcely seem to know who you are.
The hunter began to be thus bewildered. Then it was bitter cold, and he
began to be benumbed and stupefied.
Intense cold almost always produces a stupefying effect, when one has
been long exposed to it. The hunter knew very well that he must not
yield to such a feeling as this, and so he forced himself to make a new
effort. But the snow seemed to grow deeper and deeper, and it was very
hard for him to make his way through it. It was freshly fallen, and,
consequently, it was very light and soft, and the hunter sank down in
it very far. If he had had snow shoes, he could have walked upon the
top of it; but he had no snow shoes.
At last he became very tired.
“Bruno,” said he, “I must lie down here and rest a little, before I can
go on any further.”
[Sidenote: Bruno tries to encourage and save his master.]
But Bruno, when he saw his master preparing to lie down, jumped about
him, and barked, and seemed very uneasy. Just then the hunter saw
before him a deep black hole. He looked down, and saw that it was
water. Instead of being in the road, he was going over some deep pit
filled with water, covered, except in one place, with ice and snow. He
perceived that he had had a very narrow escape from falling into this
water, and he now felt more bewildered and lost than ever. He contrived
to get by the dangerous hole, feeling his way with a stick, and then he
sank down in the snow among the rocks, and gave up in despair.
[Sidenote: The hunter comes very near perishing in the snow.]
And yet the house was very near. The chimney and the gable end of it
could just be distinguished in the distance through the falling snow.
Bruno knew this, and he was extremely distressed that his master should
give up when so near reaching home. He lay down in the snow by the
side of his master, and putting his paw over his arm, to encourage
him and keep him from absolute despair, he turned his head toward the
house, and barked loud and long, again and again, in hopes of bringing
somebody to the rescue.
[Illustration]
In the picture you can see the hunter lying in the snow, with Bruno
over him. His cap has fallen off, and is half buried. His stick, too,
lies on the snow near his cap. That was a stick that he got to feel
down into the hole in the ice with, in order to ascertain how deep the
water was, and to find his way around it. The rocks around the place
are covered with snow, and the branches of the trees are white with it.
[Sidenote: Danger of going to sleep when out in a storm.]
It is extremely dangerous to lie down to sleep in the snow in a storm
like this. People that do so usually never wake again. They think,
always, that they only wish to rest themselves, and sleep a few
minutes, and that then they will be refreshed, and be ready to proceed
on their journey. But they are deceived. The drowsiness is produced,
not by the fatigue, but by the cold. They are beginning to freeze, and
the freezing benumbs all their sensations. The drowsiness is the effect
of the benumbing of the brain.
Sometimes, when several persons are traveling together in cold and
storms, one of their number, who may perhaps be more delicate than the
rest, and who feels the cold more sensibly, wishes very much to stop a
few minutes to lie down and rest, and he begs his companions to allow
him to do so. But they, if they are wise, will not consent. Then he
sometimes declares that he _will_ stop, at any rate, even if they do
not consent. Then they declare that he shall not, and they take hold
of his shoulders and arms to pull him along. Then he gets angry, and
attempts to resist them. The excitement of this quarrel warms him a
little, and restores in some degree his sensibility, and so he goes
on, and his life is saved. Then he is very grateful to them for having
disregarded his remonstrances and resistance, and for compelling him to
proceed.[2]
[2] Children, in the same way, often complain very strenuously
of what their parents and teachers require of them, and resist
and contend against it as long as they can; and then, if their
parents persevere, they are afterward, when they come to
perceive the benefit of it, very grateful.
But now we must return to the story.
[Sidenote: Alarm in the cottage. They open the door.]
The hunter’s family heard the barking in the house. They all
immediately went to the door. One of the children opened the door. The
gusts of wind blew the snow in her face, and blinded her. She leaned
back against the door, and wiped the snow from her face and eyes with
her apron. Her grandmother came to the door with a light, but the wind
blew it out in an instant. Her mother came too, and for a moment little
Jooly was left alone.
[Illustration]
“It is my husband!” she exclaimed. “He is dying in the snow! Mercy upon
us! What will become of us?
“Give me the cordial,” said she. “Quick!”
So saying, she turned to the shelves which you see in the picture near
where she is standing, and hastily taking down a bottle containing
a cordial, which was always kept there ready to be used on such
occasions, she rushed out of the house. She shut the door after her as
she went, charging the rest, with her last words, to take good care of
little Jooly.
[Sidenote: The puss. Little Jooly sleeps undisturbed.]
Of course, those that were left in the cottage were all in a state of
great distress and anxiety while she was gone--all except two, Jooly
and the puss. Jooly was asleep in the cradle. The puss was not asleep,
but was crouched very quietly before the fire in a warm and bright
place near the grandmother’s chair. She was looking at the fire, and at
the kettle which was boiling upon it, and wondering whether they would
give her a piece of the meat by-and-by that was boiling in the kettle
for the hunter’s supper.
[Sidenote: The hunter and Jooly are both saved.]
When the hunter felt the mouth of the cordial bottle pressed gently to
his lips, and heard his wife’s voice calling to him, he opened his eyes
and revived a little. The taste of the cordial revived him still more.
He was now able to rise, and when he was told how near home he was, he
felt so cheered and encouraged by the intelligence that he became quite
strong. The company in the house were soon overjoyed at hearing voices
at the door, and on opening it, the hunter, his wife, and Bruno all
came safely in.
Jooly took the medicine which his father brought him, and soon got well.
Here is a picture of Bruno lying on the wolf-skin, and resting from his
toils.
[Illustration]
THE EMIGRANTS.
The hunter, Bruno’s master, emigrated to America, and when he went, he
sold Bruno to another man. A great many people from Europe emigrate to
America.
[Sidenote: Emigrants. The way they cross the Atlantic.]
To emigrate means to move from one country to another. The people in
Europe come from all parts of the interior down to the sea-shore,
and there embark in great ships to cross the Atlantic Ocean. A great
many come in the same ship. While they are at sea, if the weather is
pleasant, these passengers come up upon the deck, and have a very
comfortable time. But when it is cold and stormy, they have to stay
below, and they become sick, and are very miserable. They can not stay
on deck at such times on account of the sea, which washes over the
ships, and often keeps the decks wet from stem to stern.
When the emigrants land in America, some of them remain in the cities,
and get work there if they can. Others go to the West to buy land.
[Sidenote: The English family.]
Opposite you see a farmer’s family in England setting out for America.
The young girl who stands with her hands joined together is named
Esther. That is her father who is standing behind her. Her mother and
her grandmother are in the wagon. Esther’s mother has an infant in her
arms, and her grandmother is holding a young child. Both these children
are Esther’s brothers. Their names are George and Benny. The baby’s
name is Benny.
[Illustration: The farmer’s family. The farewell.]
Esther has two aunts--both very kind to her. One of her aunts is going
to America, but the other--her aunt Lucy--is to remain behind. They are
bidding each other good-by. The one who has a bonnet on her head is the
one that is going. We can tell who are going on the journey by their
having hats or bonnets on. Esther’s aunt Lucy, who has no bonnet on, is
to remain. When the wagon goes away, she will go into the house again,
very sorrowful.
[Sidenote: The journey in the covered wagon.]
The farmer has provided a _covered_ wagon for the journey, so as to
protect his wife, and his mother, and his sister, and his children from
the cold wind and from the rain. But they will not go all the way in
this wagon. They will go to the sea-shore in the wagon, and then they
will embark on board a ship, to cross the Atlantic Ocean.
We can see the ship, all ready and waiting, in the background of the
picture, on the right. There will be a great many other families on
board the ship, all going to America. There will be sailors, too, to
navigate the ship and to manage the sails.
THE VOYAGE.
[Sidenote: The voyage in the ship.]
The voyage which the emigrants have to take is very long. It is three
thousand miles from England to America, and it takes oftentimes many
weeks to accomplish the transit. Sometimes during the voyage the breeze
is light, and the water is smooth, and the ship glides very pleasantly
and prosperously on its way. Then the emigrants pass their time very
agreeably. They come up upon the decks, they look out upon the water,
they talk, they sew, they play with the children--they enjoy, in fact,
almost as many comforts and pleasures as if they were at home on land.
Opposite is a picture of the ship sailing along very smoothly, in
pleasant weather, at the commencement of the voyage. The cliff in the
background, on the right, is part of the English shore, which the ship
is just leaving. There is a light-house upon the cliff, and a town on
the shore below.
[Illustration: The emigrant ship setting sail. Smooth sea.]
The wind is fair, and the water is smooth. The emigrants are out upon
the decks. We can see their heads above the bulwarks.
[Sidenote: The buoy.]
The object in the foreground, floating in the water, is a _buoy_. It is
placed there to mark a rock or a shoal. It is secured by an anchor.
Thus, when the weather is fair, the emigrants pass their time very
pleasantly. They amuse themselves on the decks by day, and at night
they go down into the cabins, which are below the deck of the ship, and
there they sleep.
[Illustration: The ship in a storm. Great danger. Heavy seas.]
But sometimes there comes a storm. The wind increases till it becomes a
gale. Clouds are seen scudding swiftly across the sky. Immense billows,
rolling heavily, dash against the ship, or chase each other furiously
across the wide expanse of the water, breaking every where into foam
and spray. The winds howl fearfully in the rigging, and sometimes a
sail is burst from its fastenings by the violence of it, and flaps its
tattered fragments in the air with the sound of thunder.
[Sidenote: Discomfort and distress of the passengers.]
While the storm continues, the poor emigrants are obliged to remain
below, where they spend their time in misery and terror. By-and-by the
storm subsides, the sailors repair the damages, and the ship proceeds
on her voyage.
In the engraving below we see the ship far advanced on her way. She
is drawing near to the American shore. The sea is smooth, the wind is
fair, and she is pressing rapidly onward.
[Illustration]
On the left is seen another vessel, and on the right two more, far in
the offing.
The emigrants on board the ship are rejoiced to believe that their
voyage is drawing toward the end.
[Sidenote: The arrival.]
When the farmer and his family have landed in America, they will take
another wagon, and go back into the country till they come to the place
where they are going to have their farm. There they will cut down the
trees of the forest, and build a house of logs. Then they will plow the
ground, and sow the seeds, and make the farm. By-and-by they will gain
enough by their industry to build a better house, and to fit it with
convenient and comfortable furniture, and thenceforward they will live
in plenty and happiness.
[Sidenote: Benny and George.]
All this time they will take great care of George and Benny, so that
they shall not come to any harm. They will keep them warm in the
wagon, and they will watch over them on board the ship, and carry them
in their arms when they walk up the hills, in journeying in America,
and make a warm bed for them in their house, and take a great deal of
pains to have always plenty of good bread for them to eat, and warm
milk for them to drink. They will suffer, themselves, continual toil,
privation, and fatigue, but they will be very careful not to let the
children suffer any thing if they can possibly help it.
[Sidenote: Ingratitude.]
By-and-by, when Benny and George grow up, they will find that their
father lives upon a fine farm, with a good house and good furniture,
and with every comfort around them. They will hardly know how much care
and pains their father, and mother, and grandmother took to save them
from all suffering, and to provide for them a comfortable and happy
home. How ungrateful it would be in them to be unkind or disobedient to
their father, and mother, and grandmother, when they grow up.
GOING ALONE.
[Sidenote: Emigrant going alone.]
Sometimes, when a man is intending to emigrate to America, he goes
first himself alone, in order to see the country, and choose a place
to live in, and buy a farm, intending afterward to come back for his
family. He does not take them with him at first, for he does not know
what he should do with his wife and all his young children while he is
traveling from place to place to view the land.
[Illustration: He bids his wife and children good-by. Picture of it.]
When the emigrant goes first alone in this way, leaving his family
at home, the parting is very sorrowful. His poor wife is almost
broken-hearted. She gathers her little children around her, and clasps
them in her arms, fearing that some mischief may befall their father
when he is far away, and that they may never see him again. The man
attempts to comfort her by saying that it will not be long before he
comes back, and that then they shall never more be separated. His
oldest boy stands holding his father’s staff, and almost wishing that
he was going to accompany him. He turns away his face to hide his
tears. As for the dog, he sees that his master is going away, and he is
very earnestly desirous to go too. In fact, they know he _would_ go if
he were left at liberty, and so they chain him to a post to keep him at
home.
[Sidenote: A sorrowful parting.]
It is a hard thing for a wife and a mother that her husband should
thus go away and leave her, to make so long a voyage, and to encounter
so many difficulties and dangers, knowing, as she does, that it is
uncertain whether he will ever live to return. She bears the pain of
this parting out of love to her children. She thinks that their father
will find some better and happier home for them in the New World, where
they can live in greater plenty, and where, when they grow up, and
become men and women, they will be better provided for than they were
in their native land.
[Sidenote: The ship. The emigrants.]
In the distance, in the engraving, we see the ship in which this man
is going to sail. We see a company of emigrants, too, down the road,
going to embark. There is one child walking alone behind her father and
mother, who seems too young to set out on such a voyage.
SILVER BOWL STOLEN.
Bruno belonged to several different masters in the course of his life.
He was always sorry to leave his old master when the changes were made,
but then he yielded to the necessity of the case in these emergencies
with a degree of composure and self-control, which, in a man, would
have been considered quite philosophical.
The hunter of the Alps, whose life Bruno had saved, resolved at the
time that he would never part with him.
“I would not sell him,” said he, “for a thousand francs.”
They reckon sums of money by francs in Switzerland. A franc is a silver
coin. About five of them make a dollar.
[Sidenote: Bruno’s master is obliged to sell him. The reason why.]
However, notwithstanding this resolution, the hunter found himself at
last forced to sell his dog. He had concluded to emigrate to America.
He found, on making proper inquiry and calculation, that it would cost
a considerable sum of money to take Bruno with him across the ocean.
In the first place, he would have to pay not a little for his passage.
Then, besides, it would cost a good deal to feed him on the way, both
while on board the ship and during his progress across the country.
The hunter reflected that all the money which he should thus pay for
the dog would be so much taken from the food, and clothing, and other
comforts of his wife and children. Just at this time a traveler came by
who offered to buy the dog, and promised always to take most excellent
care of him. So the hunter sold him, and the traveler took him away.
[Sidenote: Bruno is sold and carried away to England.]
Bruno was very unwilling at first to go away with the stranger. But the
hunter ordered him to get into the gentleman’s carriage, and he obeyed.
He looked out behind the carriage as they drove away, and wondered what
it all could mean. He could not understand it; but as it was always a
rule with him to submit contentedly to what could not be helped, he
soon ceased to trouble himself about the matter, and so, lying down in
the carriage, he went to sleep. He did not wake up for several hours
afterward.
The traveler conveyed the dog home with him to England, and kept him
a long time. He made a kennel for him in the corner of the yard. Here
Bruno lived several years in great peace and plenty.
At length the gentleman was going away from home again on a long tour,
and as there was nobody to be left at home to take an interest in
Bruno, he put him under the charge, during his absence, of a boy named
Lorenzo, who lived in a large house on the banks of a stream near his
estate. Lorenzo liked Bruno very much, and took excellent care of
him.[3]
[3] The house where Lorenzo lived was a large double house, of
a very peculiar form. There is a picture of it on page 58.
There was a grove of tall trees near the house where Lorenzo lived,
which contained the nests of thousands of rooks. Rooks are large black
birds, very much like crows. Bruno used to lie in the yard where
Lorenzo kept him, and watch the rooks for hours together.
[Illustration: The encampment of gipsies.]
[Sidenote: How gipsies live.]
In a solitary place near where Lorenzo lived there was an encampment of
gipsies. Gipsies live much like Indians. They wander about England in
small bands, getting money by begging, and selling baskets, and they
build little temporary huts from time to time in solitary places, where
they live for a while, and then, breaking up their encampment, they
wander on till they find another place, where they encamp again.
[Sidenote: Their ingenuity in stealing.]
Sometimes, when they can not get money enough by begging and selling
baskets, they will steal. They show a great deal of ingenuity in the
plans they devise for stealing. In fact, they are very adroit and
cunning in every thing they undertake.
At one time Lorenzo’s father went away, and one of the gipsies, named
Murphy, resolved to take that opportunity to steal something from the
house.
[Sidenote: Murphy’s plan.]
“We can get in,” said he to his comrade, “very easily, in the night, by
the back door, and get the silver bowl. We can melt the bowl, and sell
it for four or five sovereigns.”
The silver bowl which Murphy referred to was one which had been given
to Lorenzo by his uncle when he was a baby. Lorenzo’s name was engraved
upon the side of it.
Lorenzo used his bowl to eat his bread and milk from every night for
supper. It was kept on a shelf in a closet opening from the kitchen.
Murphy had seen it put there once or twice, when he had been in the
kitchen at night, selling baskets.
“We can get that bowl just as well as not,” said Murphy, “when the man
is away.”
“There’s a big dog there,” said his comrade.
“Yes,” said Murphy, “but I’ll manage the dog.”
“How will you manage him?” asked his comrade.
“I’ll try coaxing and flattery first,” said Murphy. “If that don’t do,
I’ll try threatening; if threatening won’t do, I’ll try bribing; and if
he won’t be bribed, I’ll poison him.”
[Sidenote: Bruno is on the watch.]
That night, about twelve o’clock, Murphy crept stealthily round to a
back gate which led into the yard behind the house where Lorenzo lived.
The instant that Bruno heard the noise, he sprang up, and went bounding
down the path till he came to the gate. As soon as he saw the gipsy, he
began to bark very vociferously.
Lorenzo was asleep at this time; but as his room was on the back side
of the house, and his window was open, he heard the barking. So he got
up and went to the window, and called out,
“Bruno, what’s the matter?”
Bruno was at some distance from the house, and did not hear Lorenzo’s
voice. He was watching Murphy.
Murphy immediately began to coax and cajole the dog, calling him “Nice
fellow,” and “Good dog,” and “Poor Bruno,” speaking all the time in a
very friendly and affectionate tone to him. Bruno, however, had sense
enough to know that there was something wrong in such a man being seen
prowling about the house at that time of night, and he refused to be
quieted. He went on barking louder than ever.
“Bruno!” said Lorenzo, calling louder, “what’s the matter? Come back to
your house, and be quiet.”
Murphy thought he heard a voice, and, peeping through a crack in the
fence, he saw Lorenzo standing at the window. The moon shone upon his
white night-gown, so that he could be seen very distinctly.
[Sidenote: Murphy disappears.]
As soon as Murphy saw him, he crept away into a thicket, and
disappeared. Bruno, after waiting a little time to be sure that the man
had really gone, turned about, and came back to the house. When he saw
Lorenzo, he began to wag his tail. He would have told him about the
gipsy if he had been able to speak.
“Go to bed, Bruno,” said he, “and not be keeping us awake, barking at
the moon this time of night.”
So Bruno went into his house, and Lorenzo to his bed.
[Sidenote: Murphy tries threats.]
The next night, Murphy, finding that Bruno could not be coaxed away
from his duty by flattery, concluded to try what virtue there might
be in threats and scolding. So he came armed with a club and stones.
As soon as he got near the gate, Bruno, as he had expected, took the
alarm, and came bounding down the path again to see who was there.
As soon as he saw Murphy, he set up a loud and violent barking as
before.
“Down, Bruno, down!” exclaimed Murphy, in a stern and angry voice.
“Stop that noise, or I’ll break your head.”
So saying, he brandished his club, and then stooped down to pick up one
of the stones which he had brought, and which he had laid down on the
ground where he was standing, so as to have them all ready.
[Sidenote: He is unsuccessful.]
Bruno, instead of being intimidated and silenced by these
demonstrations, barked louder than ever.
Lorenzo jumped out of bed and came to the window.
“Bruno!” said he, calling out loud, “what’s the matter? There’s nothing
there. Come back to your house, and be still.”
The gipsy, finding that Bruno did not fear his clubs and stones, and
hearing Lorenzo’s voice again moreover, went back into the thicket.
Bruno waited until he was sure that he was really gone, and then
returned slowly up the pathway to the house.
“Go to bed, Bruno,” said Lorenzo, “and not be keeping us awake,
barking at the moon this time of night.”
So Bruno and Lorenzo both went to bed again.
[Sidenote: He tries bribes, which Bruno refuses.]
The next night Murphy came again, with two or three pieces of meat in
his hands.
“I’ll bribe him,” said he. “He likes meat.”
Bruno, on hearing the sound of Murphy’s footsteps, leaped out of his
bed, and ran down the path as before. As soon as he saw the gipsy
again, he began to bark. Murphy threw a piece of meat toward him,
expecting that, as soon as Bruno saw it, he would stop barking at
once, and go to eating it greedily. But Bruno paid no attention to the
offered bribe. He kept his eyes fixed closely on the gipsy, and barked
away as loud as ever.
Lorenzo, hearing the sound, was awakened from his sleep, and getting up
as before, he came to the window.
“Bruno,” said he, “what _is_ the matter now? Come back to your house,
and go to bed, and be quiet.”
Murphy, finding that the house was alarmed again, and that Bruno would
not take the bribe that he offered him, crept away back into the
thicket, and disappeared.
“I’ll poison him to-morrow night,” said he--“the savage cur!”
[Sidenote: The poisoned meat.]
Accordingly, the next evening, a little before sunset, he put some
poison in a piece of meat, and having wrapped it up in paper, he put it
in his pocket. He then went openly to the house where Lorenzo lived,
with some baskets on his arm for sale. When he entered the yard, he
took the meat out of the paper, and secretly threw it into Bruno’s
house. Bruno was not there at the time. He had gone away with Lorenzo.
[Sidenote: Bruno imprisoned.]
Murphy then went into the kitchen, and remained there some time,
talking about his baskets. When he came out, he found Lorenzo shutting
up Bruno in his house, and putting a board up before the door.
“What are you doing, Lorenzo?” said the gipsy.
“I am shutting Bruno up,” said Lorenzo. “He makes such a barking in the
night that we can not sleep.”
“That’s right,” replied the gipsy. So he went away, saying to himself,
as he went down the pathway, “He won’t bark much more, I think, after
he has eaten the supper I have put in there for him.”
Bruno wondered what the reason was that Lorenzo was shutting him up
so closely. He little thought it was on account of his vigilance and
fidelity in watching the house. He had, however, nothing to do but to
submit. So, when Lorenzo had finished fastening the door, and had gone
away, he lay down in a corner of his apartment, extended his paws out
before him, rested his chin upon them, and prepared to shut his eyes
and go to sleep.
[Sidenote: He discovers the meat.]
His eyes, however, before he had shut them, fell upon the piece of meat
which Murphy had thrown in there for him. So he got up again, and went
toward it.