A DUMB HERO.

Waimate Daily Advertiser, Issue 19, 1 October 1898, Page 7

A DUMB HERO.

It was not an hour after dawn, yet the great waiting-rooru of the Central Station, New York, was full. The soft morning

air blew freshly through the long line of cars and puffing engines. A faint hum comes from without. It was the great city awakening for the day. A Scotch collie, belonging to One of the emigrant groups, went from one to another wagging his tail, and looking with mild and expressive eyes full of good-natured friendly feeling. Children called to him, some students romped with him, the ladies patted his head, a poor negro in the corner shared his meal with him, and then he seemed to unite all these difterent groups ha a common tie of good feeling. While all this was going on, a woman was washing the windows of some empty cars drawn on to the siding, singing as she rubbed the glass. While her back was turned, her child, a little fellow about three years old, ran to the door of the car and jumped down on the track. Upon this track the eastern express was coming. Directly in its path was the babe ; a hush of horror fell upon the crowd. Everj eye turned in his direction, and then a low sob of anguish fell upon the paralysed people.

The dog, with his head ' erect and fixed eyes, saw the danger, and with a bound and a fierce bark darted towards the child. The baby, frightened, started back. The mother went on washing windows and singing as the huge engine rushed up abreast of her car. There was a crunching noise and a faint little cry of agony. Even strong men grew sick at the sound and turned away. When they looked again, the baby was toddling across the platform, crowing and laughing, and the crushed dead body of a dog lay on the track. " Passengers for Pittsburg,, Chicago and the west. Passengers for Baltimore, Eichmond and the south," so the cry went on, and the surging crowd passed out, never to all meet again in tins world. But the faces of men and women were pale, and there were tears in the eyes of some. The poor negro and the millionaire, tottering old men and frolicsome boys, had been helped onward, upward, by the friendly, cheerful life and the heroic death of a dumb dog.— Scotsman' 1