Last update:
01/19/2018 17.39
January 19, 2018

Original from University of Michigan


Mr. and Mrs. Lowell's three little girls were playing on the wharf of their summer home, which was situated on the Canadian side of Lake Ontario. The water was quite deep in that spot, but the mother and father were near at hand to see that no harm befell their darlings. The little ones played contentedly for some time, but finally Marjorie, the youngest, ventured too near the edge, and tumbled with a splash into the calm depths.

The parents sprang up and rushed to the wharf. But they were not quick enough. Waif, their beautiful Scotch collie dog, was before them. The noble animal jumped into the water, caught the neck of the child's dress in his mouth, and rescued her from a watery grave.

Of course the dog was petted and made much of. He loved candy, and a generous share was given to him, to his great delight. Marjorie was taken to the house, where she donned dry garments, and they thought that danger was over.

But more was destined to follow.

The next day the children went, as usual, to the wharf, with Mr. Lowell accompanying them. For a time all went well. Suddenly, however, without a note of warning, Waif dashed into their midst and deliberately pushed one of the little girls over the edge.

He immediately rescued her before the dazed gentleman could collect his scattered senses, and laid her at her father's feet. She was carried home at once, and the dog followed, crestfallen that his master did not pet him for his brave deed.

He was given no candy that day, but received, instead, a severe scolding.

This had the desired effect, for Waif never again attempted to gain extra pettings and portions of sweetmeats by that ruse.


Original from University of Michigan

About two years ago, when we used to live in the country, I had a beautiful Scotch collie by the name of "Sandy." He knew a great many tricks, and one of them was to go after anything that I threw into the lake that was near our house. He would also go into it of his own accord sometimes.

One day, a threshing-machine was at work in a field near us, and Sandy and I were going to watch the threshers make the haystacks on which we loved to play hide-and-seek. As we passed the lake, I noticed some little children who lived near us playing on the bank. When we reached the field, we played for a while on one of the sweet-scented hay stacks, but at last we got tired, and I was sure it must be nearly dinner-time, so we started for home.

On nearing the lake, we heard a frightened scream from one of the children, and Sandy looked up knowingly into my face as we ran toward it.

On reaching it, we saw that the youngest child had fallen in.

I quickly called Sandy, and, pointing to the water, in which the little girl was sinking, said, "Bring it to me!"

He seemed to understand, and dashed into the water, and soon, catching the little girl's clothing firmly in his teeth, he brought her safely back to the shore.

A man was called who carried her to her home. She quickly recovered, and was ever Sandy's faithful friend.

The child's father gave Sandy a new collar, which he still wears, and of which I am very proud.


Original from University of Chicago

Betty lived on the top of a hill, and at the bottom of it ran the railroad track. She had two intimate companions, her doll, Madeleine, and her nurse.

Now who do you suppose her nurse was? Why, he was a large collie, named Roy; but he took just as good care of Betty and Madeleine as any nurse could. He went everywhere with them, and Betty's father and mother knew that she would always be safe if Roy were with her.

One day, Betty, Madeleine, and Roy went out to play. Down the hill they ran, and when they got to the foot, Betty cried, "I know what we'll do, Roy. We'll sit down on the place where the choo-choo comes, and play house."

So Betty sat down in the middle of the track, and began to fix Madeleine's hair.

Roy didn't like this play at all. He tugged at Betty's dress, and looked anxiously around; but nobody was in sight.

Suddenly there sounded in the distance a long drawn "W-o-o."

It was an express. What should he do? He tried to pull Betty off the track, but she was too heavy, and every moment the train was drawing nearer and nearer.

Just then, Betty's mother came down the hill. She saw with horror the situation: the fast-approaching train, the child sitting upon the track playing with her doll, and the dog tugging at her skirt. Betty's mother, rooted to the ground in her fright, had not strength enough to scream.

Suddenly Roy solved the difficulty. Snatching the doll from Betty's arms, he bounded away with it, and Betty, anxious to recover her dolly, followed him just as the train rushed by.

When they reached home, you may be sure Roy had the best dinner a dog ever ate, and received more caressing than had been his lot for many a day.


Original from Harvard University

Our cat Dick and our old collie were great chums. One day it fell to Dick's share to save the life of his old friend, which is a service a cat cannot often render to a dog. It came to pass in this wise:

One Sunday afternoon I was sitting in the library. I heard an automobile come up and stop near the house. I looked up, and saw two women get out of the car and place a fat bulldog on the ground. I wondered what he would do.

He stood for some moments looking up and down, and then started for the house. He came up on the porch, and, before I knew what he was up to, he had attacked the collie, who was lying on the door-mat.

He would soon have made an end of him had it not been that Dick came around the corner and landed on his back. He bit and scratched so that the bulldog was soon put to flight and sent back to the car with his tail between his legs.

So you see that Dick and the collie were great friends.

Next time I think that bulldog will not want to get out of the car!


Original from University of Michigan

I am a little girl who lived in Kentucky. Not long ago we moved into Ohio, and my heart was like to break at having to part with my only pet, Rex, my collie.

"We cannot take him with us," my father told me gently, "but I will get you another dog."

"Oh, but I don't want another dog!" I sobbed, with my face buried in Rex's hair. "Please, Papa …"

"Come, darling, we are ready to go," called Mother, and I stumbled blindly to my feet, with a last farewell pat.

About three weeks later, after we were settled in our new home, I observed the figure of a dog walking slowly down the street. He was dejected looking, dirty, and thin.

"He looks like Rex!" I thought to myself.

"Rex! Rex!" I called. He turned and came bounding up the walk to me. And it was Rex!

How he reached me I'II never know, but I am sure that when I threw my arms around his neck and he thrust his grimy muzzle into my face is my happiest memory.