"Some of the most notable Swiss breeders, when speaking of their best specimens, appear proud of boasting of the humble origin of their favourites, and one of them remarked to me, 'Ah! I picked the sire of so-and-so out of a cart in ------- market.'

Evidently the farmers and peasants are fond of their breed of dogs, but they make them earn their living in a hardish way, and it is a pity they do not attend to the rearing of them better; it would pay them well to do the latter.

"After a look through the market and other places of interest, we turned our steps to the Natural History Museum of Berne to see all that is left of the renowned Barry. According to the account in the museum Barry saved fifteen lives; other stories have given the number at from forty to seventy-five. I should take the Swiss Museum number as the correct one. Barry is a brindle and white patched smooth-coated dog, with a white muzzle, no blaze, rather long in head, narrow in muzzle at the end, but with good width below the eye; he is deficient in depth of skull, is small, I should say was not more than 26m. or 27m. high at the shoulder; he is down in the pasterns (this may be the fault of the man who 'set him up'), light in bone, and perfectly clear of anything approaching to a semblance of dew claws. I know it has been stated that the dew claws were probably taken off by the taxidermist, so I made a very careful examination of the hind legs and skin, and I now positively assert that Barry never had any dew claws. "There are several heads of St. Bernard dogs to be found in the museum; also another stuffed specimen of the variety, a smooth-coated white dog, with a brindle patch on stern, and with an evenly marked head. This dog, though of fair size, is small in head. Some of the specimens of the heads are shapely and of good type.

"On the following day we started for Martigny. On the platform, at St. Maurice Station, I saw a very fair smooth dog, orange and white, patched, marked something like our English Keeper. This was far and away the best-headed St. Bernard I had seen in Switzerland up to now; in other respects he is on the small side, and only fair in bone. Arrived at Martigny we made arrangements for the ascent of the Great St. Bernard on the following day.

Martigny is the place which supplies the monks who take their turn of duty at the Hospice.

"On June 22nd we started for the Hospice of the Great St. Bernard, 7 a.m., in a carriage drawn by strong horses. Our first stopping place was Orsiers, where we rested for half-an-hour, and then went forward till we reached Liddes, where we had lunch, and changed our horses for mules, leaving the former to await our return the following day. Proceeding on our journey with the mules, and changing our Swiss driver for the Italian guides, the ascent became much steeper and the road rougher. In due course we arrived at our last stopping place, the Cantin di Proz, where the mules were taken out of the carriage and made ready for the completion of our journey in the saddle. Here I saw a very nice smooth-coated St. Bernard bitch and seven puppies, the latter about two months old, by Barry, a dog kept at the Hospice. One of the puppies was white, another had a half white face, another a white head, the remainder being fairly marked; the price asked for the puppies was from £8 to about £12 each.

"We reached the Hospice about 6.30 p.m. quite tired out, and we were kindly received by one of the monks. We found it very cold here, and learned that the lake had been frozen over up to within a few days previously. The dogs, which were running in and out of the Hospice at will, had welcomed us on our arrival with a chorus of barks.

"After an excellent dinner of four courses, washed down with good wine, I turned out with an attendant, who acted as keeper, to have a good look at the dogs. These were seven in number; one a white with a few orange flecks on him; some of the others had all white or half white faces; only two of them were really well-marked, as we understand the phrase, and with a single exception all were smooth in their coats. This exception was a good-coloured, small, rough-haired bitch. About one half of the inmates of the kennel had dew claws, either single or double, and the remainder were without them. The monks think nothing of the rough-coated dogs, and impress upon visitors that the smooth are the true race. All the smooths were of a good type, especially a big, good-coloured old dog named Barry (I think twenty-five per cent, of the dogs in Switzerland are named Barry). Most of these dogs at the Hospice have dewlap and wrinkle to a greater or less extent. With the exception of Barry, all were on the small side, and deficient in bone. When any strangers approach the Hospice the dogs bark, rush in-doors, and so give notice of the arrival. They then run out again and welcome the travellers by rushing up to them, wagging their tails, licking the hands of the visitors, and so escorting them to the Hospice. It will thus be seen that the dogs are very docile and quiet whilst loose and roaming about.

"At 8 p.m. the attendant called all the dogs together to be put up for the night. They stood in a row, and came up as he called them to be kennelled. Some of the kennels were loose boxes in the cow places on the ground-floor or cellar of the Hospice, the others in a similar place under the Refuge. The Refuge is the building near the Hospice, which was built for the inmates of the Hospice to resort to in the case of fire, and the Hospice has been twice burned down. When the dogs are kennelled they become quite fierce, and bark savagely if a stranger approaches their kennels.

"Next we were taken by one of the monks to see the library, museum, and chapel. In the latter is a painting of Bernard de Menthon and his dog, which we are asked to believe is the actual progenitor of the present race of St. Bernards. It is, however, but a common-looking creature, smooth coated, red in colour, about the size of a pointer, and as unlike the modern race as possible. At this I could not be surprised, as the painting had been executed some hundreds of years after the founder of the monastery had died, which he did about 1081, and so of course the artist had to draw on his imagination as to what the original St. Bernard dog was like. In those days, and for long after, the Hospice dogs were merely watch dogs, used to protect the monks from the incursions of robbers, from which they suffered to a great extent in the early times of their existence. I am sorry to say the monks keep no register containing pedigrees of their dogs. I saw a photograph of a very fine St. Bernard dog named Hospice Pluto. This dog is now dead, but his portrait proved him to have an enormous head, with very heavy lips and dewlap. The monks considered this dog by far the best they have had for some years.