of assistance.

I think I must translate for my young readers an affecting story about
this dog Barry, which I read the other day in a little French book,
entitled "Modèles des Enfans." It seems that a great while ago there was
a poor woman wandering about these mountains, in the vicinity of the
convent of St. Bernard, in company with her son, a very small boy. The
story does not inform us what they were doing, and why they were walking
in such a dangerous place. Perhaps they were gathering fuel to keep them
warm; and very likely when they left home the weather was mild, and that
they did not anticipate a storm. However that may be, they were
overtaken by an avalanche, the mother was buried beneath it, and the
child saw her no more. But I must tell the remainder of the story in the
language of the French writer.

[Illustration: THE DOG OF ST. BERNARD, RESCUING THE CHILD.]

"Poor boy! the storm increased; the wind howled, and whirled the snow
into huge heaps. In the hope that he might possibly meet a traveler, the
child forced his way for awhile through the snow; but at last,
exhausted, benumbed with the cold, and discouraged, he fell upon his
knees, joined his hands devoutly together, and cried, as he raised his
face, bathed in tears, toward heaven, 'O my God! have mercy on a poor
child, who has nobody in the world to care for him!' As he lay in the
place where he fell down, which was sheltered a little by a rock, he
grew colder and colder, and he thought he must die. But still, from time
to time, he prayed, 'Have mercy, O my God! on a poor child, who has
nobody in the world to care for him!' At last he fell asleep, but was
wakened by feeling a warm paw on his face. As he opened his eyes he saw
with terror an enormous dog holding his head near his own. He uttered a