[ Corelli / A Romance of Two Worlds ]
This novel, Corelli's first and an expression of some of her beliefs in spiritualism and esoteric Christianity, features a Newf as a recurring minor character. The first mention is in Chapter 2:
When I arrived, the rooms
were deserted, save for the presence of a magnificent Newfoundland
dog, who, as I entered, rose, and shaking his shaggy body, sat down
before me and offered me his huge paw, wagging his tail in the most
friendly manner all the while, I at once responded to his cordial
greeting, and as I stroked his noble head, I wondered where the
animal had come from; for though--we had visited Signor Cellini's
studio every day, there had been no sign or mention of this stately,
brown-eyed, four-footed companion. I seated myself, and the dog
immediately lay down at my feet, every now and then looking up at me
with an affectionate glance and a renewed wagging of his tail.
Also in Chapter 2, where we learn that this Newfoundland likes to travel by train -- by himself!
I tasted the wine and found it delicious, soft and mellow as summer
moonlight. While I sipped it the big Newfoundland, who had stretched
himself in a couchant posture on the hearth-rug ever since Cellini
had first entered the room, rose and walked majestically to my side
and rubbed his head caressingly against the folds of my dress.
"Leo has made friends with you, I see," said Cellini. "You should
take that as a great compliment, for he is most particular in his
choice of acquaintance, and most steadfast when he has once made up
his mind. He has more decision of character than many a statesman."
"How is it we have never seen him before?" I inquired. "You never
told us you had such a splendid companion."
"I am not his master," replied the artist. "He only favours me with
a visit occasionally. He arrived from Paris last night, and came
straight here, sure of his welcome. He does not confide his plans to
me, but I suppose he will return to his home when he thinks it
advisable. He knows his own business best."
I laughed.
"What a clever dog! Does he journey on foot, or does he take the
train?"
"I believe he generally patronizes the railway. All the officials
know him, and he gets into the guard's van as a matter of course.
Sometimes he will alight at a station en route, and walk the rest of
the way. But if he is lazily inclined, he does not stir till the
train reaches its destination. At the end of every six months or so,
the railway authorities send the bill of Leo's journeyings in to his
master, when it is always settled without difficulty."
It gets better: Corelli (who wrote a number of "mystical" or "occult" novels, at a time when such interests were extremely popular) makes Leo the Newf the beneficiary of his master's psychical powers, as we learn in Chapter 7:
At the time I pursued these studies, Leo here was quite a
young dog, full of the clumsy playfulness and untrained ignorance of
a Newfoundland puppy. One day I was very busy reading an interesting
Sanskrit scroll which treated of ancient medicines and remedies, and
Leo was gambolling in his awkward way about the room, playing with
an old slipper and worrying it with his teeth. The noise he made
irritated and disturbed me, and I rose in my chair and called him by
name, somewhat angrily. He paused in his game and looked up -- his
eyes met mine exactly. His head drooped; he shivered uneasily,
whined, and lay down motionless. He never stirred once from the
position he had taken, till I gave him permission -- and remember, he
was untrained. This strange behaviour led me to try other
experiments with him, and all succeeded. I gradually led him up to
the point I desired -- that is, I FORCED HIM TO RECEIVE MY THOUGHT
AND ACT UPON IT, as far as his canine capabilities could do, and he
has never once failed. It is sufficient for me to strongly WILL him
to do a certain thing, and I can convey that command of mine to his
brain without uttering a single word, and he will obey me."
This claim is met with skepticism, but is immediately put to the test, and Leo acts promptly and successfully on his master's unspoken psychic command to go fetch a handkerchief he had never seen before. (Now THAT's a Newf that could earn a pawful of obedience titles!)
Leo is mentioned again in Chapter 9:
The wonderful
capabilities of the dog Leo also were brought into constant
requisition for Prince Ivan's benefit, and without doubt they were
most remarkable. This animal, commanded -- or, I should say, brain-
electrified -- by Heliobas [his master], would fetch anything that was named to him
through his master's force, providing it was light enough for him to
carry; and he would go into the conservatory and pluck off with his
teeth any rare or common flower within his reach that was described
to him by the same means. Spoken to or commanded by others, he was
simply a good-natured intelligent Newfoundland; but under the
authority of Heliobas, he became more than human in ready wit and
quick obedience, and would have brought in a golden harvest to any
great circus or menagerie.
He was a never-failing source of wonder and interest to me, and even
more so to the Prince, who made him the subject of many an abstruse
and difficult discussion with his friend Casimir.
Leo is mentioned a number of additional times in this novel as a companion to several characters, an object of psychical interest, and even as the "chief mourner" at a funeral.