Many dogs have developed a fondness for traveling, acknowledging as master for the moment any one who would help them on their way. An antipodean example of the traveling dog was Bob, whose stuffed form now graces an Australian museum. Born in the rabbit country, he later attached himself to a railroad employee, and began to ride on the tender of a locomotive. His license was always bought and paid for by the men, and his collar bore the inscription, "Stop me not, but let me jog; I am Bob, the drivers' dog".

But eclipsing all records as a traveler was Qwney, the Railway Postal Clerks' dog. In his puppyhood Owney adopted the post-office staff at Albany, New York. One day he went down to the train with a mail wagon and decided he would go out with the boys in the postal car. He went, and he liked seeing the world so well that the wanderlust got the better of him. Finally, the Albany post-office clerks decided to ask the men to tag him on every run he made, with the result that before long it was found that Ownev had visited every big city in the United States, with side trips to Mexico and Canada.

Large Families Are The Rule In Thrifty Scotch Kennels.

Their Ancestors Came From The Celestial Kingdom.

Photographs by William Reid.

Each of these Chow, or Chow-Chow, puppies, when it arrives at dog's estate, will be a frisky, intelligent, and obedient companion for its owner - and none other. The Chow is not sociably inclined; it is indifferent to all the world save to him whom it acknowledges as master (see page 50).

A Scotch lassie and her half-dozen setter puppies.

Photograph by William Reid "WE ARE SEVEN".

When he reached Washington, he called on the Postmaster General, who ordered a harness to take the place of his overloaded collar. After some further traveling he went to San Francisco, where he was awarded a medal and fitted out with a regular traveling bag. in which to carry his blanket, comb and brush, harness and credentials. Thus duly equipped, he took passage on the steamship Victoria, as the guest of Captain Panton. Arriving at Yokohama, he was given the freedom of the Japanese Empire under the personal seal of the Mikado. After doing Japan in regulation distinguished-visitor style, he then went to Foochow, where he was entertained aboard the U. S. S. Detroit, dining on lobscouse and plum duff in the messroom.

Thence Owney went to Hongkong, received a personal passport from the Chinese Emperor, and then headed for Singapore, Suez, and Western Europe.

Dogs Do Their Farm And Household Bit In Canada As Well As In Belgium And Holland - A Scene In Perce, Province Of Quebec.

Photograph by Edith S. Watson.

Eventually he took return passage to America. Upon his arrival in New York he was "interviewed" by reporters of the metropolitan newspapers, but the lure of Broadway was short-lived. He hastened on to Tacoma and thus completed his trip around the world in 132 days, carrying more than 200 new medals, tags, and certificates as testimonials of his travels.

When Owney died every postal clerk in America lamented his death. His stuffed skin, accoutred in all the trappings of his travels, is mounted in the Post-Office Department Museum in the city of Washington.

The most recent departure in canine traveling is accredited to a dog by the name of Flock. Marcel Therouin, an aviator sent to reconnoiter a district in Serbia, saw a small boy clinging to the dead body of his father and weeping piteously, for he alone of the population of the neighborhood had been spared. A dog crouched beside the boy. Therouin decided to rescue the lad and strapped him in the airplane. The dog bowled so piteously at the prospect of being left entirely alone that the aviator took him aboard also. Ever since the dog and the aviator have been inseparable friends. When he goes up, the dog lies curled at his master's feet and never budges during the flight.