[ Howitt / Natural History Stories for My Juvenile Friends ]
Mary Botham Howitt (1799 - 1888) was a very prolific English writer of fiction, non-fiction, and poetry, much of it for younger readers and much of it co-authored with her husband, William Howitt. She was well-connected in the world of English letters, counting among her friends such notable figures as William and Dorothy Wordsworth, Charles Dickens, Elizabeth Gaskell, Alfred Lord Tennyson, and Elizabeth Barrett Browning, among others. She also translated works from Swedish writers. Today she is perhaps best known as the author of the poem "The Spider and the Fly."
This volume, first published in 1875 (London: S. W. Partridge) and reprinted several times, was heavily illustrated by several artists, with the vast majority of the images by Harrison Weir (1824 - 1906), a noted English animal illustrator who, according to his Wiki entry, is also known as "the Father of the Cat Fancy" for organizing the very first cat show in England in 1871.
Newfoundlands are mentioned once in the chapter entitled "The Dog":
The dog is one of the noblest animals in God's creation. The anecdotes of the sagacity of dogs are numberless and marvellous. I have no fear of tiring my young friends with them. My first story is taken from the writings of the late Mr. Youatt, a celebrated friend of animals. Mr. Youatt states: — "I wanted one day to go through a tall iron gate, from one part of my premises to another; but, just within it, lay a poor lame puppy, and I could not get in without rolling the little fellow over, and perhaps seriously injuring him. I stood for awhile hesitating, and at length determined to go round, through another gate; when a fine Newfoundland dog, who had been waiting patiently for his wonted caresses, and wondering why I did not come in, looked accidentally down at the invalid. He comprehended the whole business in a moment; he put down his great paw; and as quickly and as gently as possible rolled the invalid out of the way, and then drew himself back in order to leave room for the opening of the gate. Here was a plain and palpable act of reasoning. "Why does not my master come in as usual? This little fellow is in the way, and he cannot open the gate without disturbing him. I'll get rid of that;" and immediately he rolls the obstacle aside, but, with the characteristic noble feeling of his breed, he takes care not to hurt the invalid. "Now," he continues, "I must take myself out of the way, and then every obstacle will be removed." No philosopher ever reasoned more accurately than our beautiful Newfoundland dog. (53 - 54)
