4TH APRIL 1882

THE RAILWAY REVIEW

29TH FEBRUARY 1884

TERRIBLE TIDINGS

"This morning the well known Colley dog, 'Help,' which has been collecting subscriptions throughout the country on behalf of the Railway Servants' Orphan fund, London, was killed by a passenger train at a level crossing at Middlesbrough."

Such was the startling paragraph which met our gaze on looking through the special editions of the London evening papers just as we were going to press with our last week's issue. Knowing, however, that our canine friend should be nowhere near Middlesbrough, we declined then to accept the report; but when, on the following morning, it appeared in nearly all the daily papers, accompanied with articles couched in eulogistic terms, and biographies of the dog more or less inaccurate, the report was allowed to appear in our second edition, and telegram was sent to Worcester, the place to which "Help" was last dispatched. In reply thereto we were assured that he was well and happy, and was pursing his beneficent avocation with excellent results. This terrible burden off our minds, the press was at once communicated with, and the report of his untimely end contradicted. What foundation, if any, there was for the report we cannot conceive, and our Middlesbrough correspondent can throw no light on the matter. However, the dog is alive and well, and the episode shows us how popular he is throughout the country, and how wide his fame has spread.

"Help" is no "trick" dog, and he does not actually collect subscriptions as many suppose. He is simply a means to that end. His mute appeal, as he gazes into the faces of all who will notice him, is eloquent in the extreme, while he, at the same time, boldly displays the inscription on the silver pendant attached to his massive collar; and his fondness for children, whose cause he advocates, is such that the heart must be stony indeed that is not affected thereby. This idea of obtaining a sloth Colley for this purpose emanated from Mr. John Climpson, the popular guard of the "night boat train" on the London, Brighton, and South Coast Railway, who is one who is never weary of doing good, and seems never satisfied that he has done enough to help the helpless. His active brain is never exercised to try and find out what more he can do. his success in the matter of procuring and training a dog in the interests of the Railway Servants' Orphan fund was not achieved off hand. He had failures. One puppy that he had in training died of distemper, and a second shared the same fate; but he was not the man to quietly accept defeat. His mind was made up, and no question, of time, trouble, or expense would induce him to abandon his purpose. There was something to be done, and that something could be done, and should be done, and, thanks of the intervention of the Rev. Dr. Macleod, our friend "Help" was presented to the Orphan Fund by Mr. William Riddell, of Hailes, Haddington, whose, three young daughters inquire so affectionately after his welfare each time they send him their New Year's gift. Up to the end of last year the money raised through the instrumentally of "Help" rather exceeded £2 per week, which means that this faithful and docile creature relieves the Orphan Fund of the cost of supporting some half dozen orphans; or, in other words, that dog "Help," by his mute appeals, provides their needs. With such a result, Mr. Climpson has good reason to be satisfied with the outcome of his efforts. And it should be borne in mind that in collecting subscriptions for the Society's Orphan Fund, it is all done voluntarily: there are no salaries, and there are no commissions to absorb any portions of the money subscribed; and as regards "Help," with the exception of his food when taking a brief rest at headquarters, and the license - which the excise authorities are careful to exact, and his fares which are paid to the companies - all money raised by his aid goes straightaway for the benefit of the orphans. When "Help" is "on duty," as he nearly always is, his board and lodging is hospitality provided by the kind friend who has him in charge.

There is every reason to anticipate that "Help's" ledger account for the present year will be considerably in excess of any  of previous years; for the more the travels for more widely he is known, as he quickly makes friends with all he comes in contact with, and his fondness for lavishing his canine on little children goes far to make him popular. His visits to various parts of late have been highly successful, and that to the recent dog show at Bristol was a decided hit. In four days no less a sum of fifteen pounds was found deposited in his box, and he was presented with a medal as a souvenir of his visit. Still it must have surprised his many intimate friends to find by the Press throughout the kingdom how far "Help's" game had spread. Many are the requisitions for his services, and numerous are the strangers who desire to set eyes on him; but seeing how ell he is doing at Worcester, it is but natural that his friends there should by anxious to keep him longer. however, he will fulfil all his engagements in time. "Every dog has his day," and lets us hope that "Help's" day will be a long one, and that he will be spared for many years to pursue his labour of love, and that when his end does come - as come it must some day - it will not be in any such way us that depicted in the terrible tidings which came to hand last week/ He deserves a better fate than which is too frequently met by those whose offspring he lives to succour.

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Since writing the foregoing, and just as we were going to press a light has been thrown on the origin of the reported death of dog "Help," in a note from the Middlesbrough branch secretary, "Help," which shows that the error on the part of the writer of that report was not so inexcusable as it at first sight appeared. We are told that Mr. Hardy, of the Crown Hotel, Middlesbrough, had a dog which greatly resembled "Help," and this dog was killed at the level crossing on the night named in the report. Like "Help," this dog was engaged on a mission of charity, in aid of the Cottage Hospital and North Riding Infirmary; and, added to this, while "Help" was at Middlesbrough, he stayed the greater part of his time at the Crown Hotel. The dog which was killed resided at "Help's" Middlesbrough home, resembled "Help" in appearance, and followed a similar calling. No great wonder, then, that the mistake arose. We are sorry for the poor dog who was killed, and sincerely sympathise with Mr. Hardy on his loss, the more particularly so when we remember that he it was who provided a hospitable home for our own faithful canine friend.

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OUR DOG NOT DEAD YET

It will be a source of great gratification to our numerous readers and sympathising correspondents to know that the excitement unnecessarily created by the untrue report that our good friend "Help" was dead may be allayed. From the almost innumerable inquiries which we received, we could almost have imagined that "Help" was well known to our Majesty's subjects as her Majesty herself, which somewhat goes to prove the axiom, "Love me, love my dog." Perhaps no dog has been so much honoured as "Help," by the announcement of his premature decease. Although we know that men have been distinguished by their obituaries having appeared before they were dead, dogs are not often honoured in this way. It would be curious to ascertain Lord Brougham's thoughts when he heard that he had died.

To the numerous orphans it must be a source of great thankfulness that our dog has not only had his day, but is spared to us yet another day, and we hope many days more for the purpose of doing his little best in the interests and welfare of those who cannot help themselves.

If dogs could think and speak, what would "Help" say about the following extracts, which have appeared about him in the Press:-

It was merely the lifeless body of a dog mangled and disfigured, that was found on the metals of the North Eastern Railway at Middlesbrough on Wednesday morning, after the passage of the Newcastle train. The life had been crushed out by the merciless wheels of the iron horse, and as it was only the life of a brute, there was an end of it. But what a life did that mangled body represent! It was not a long life, and yet how men who have passed the allotted span of three score years and ten could present such a record as that of the railway dog "Help," whose beneficent career was thus so sadly terminated! a few months ago the story of "Help's" life was told in the columns of the Leeds Mercury Weekly Supplement, and those who desire to know what sort of a dog he was will find an engraving of him in the October number of The Animal World. He was a pure Scotch collie, a genuine sheep dog, who had won his way into the heat of his first master in Roxburghshire, and who, because of his faithfulness and intelligence, was given to the work of the Railway Servants' Orphanage. He took to his work kindly, and after being trained by Mr. John Climpson, a guard on the "night boat train" of the London, Chatham, and Dover Railway*, he entered on his mission as "a collector." He had a free pass on all lines. Wherever he was sent he did his duty. He was at home on the Continent as well as in England or in Scotland. his collecting box, attached to a bright plated collar, with an inscription briefly setting forth who he was and his object, was his badge of authority. He could utter no words, but his appeals to the generosity and sympathy of  this he encountered were made intelligible by the kindly eye and quiet, unobtrusive manner of "the collector." "Help," in fact, could speak in the language which is known all over the world, and it is stated that he collected on an average £100 a year. it is sad to think that a life so nobly spent should have been so miserably ended. We could almost envy the faith of the Indian, who believes in the future of his dog as well as of himself. At any rate, we trust that those whom "Help" served so well will not be unmindful of what they owe to him, and that there will be some record of the poor collie whose life was sacrificed in their service. - Leeds Mercury.

*Should be London, Brighton, and South Coast Railway.

Everyone was grieved to read that the Colley dog "Help," who went about collecting money for the Railway Benevolent Fund, had come to an untimely end on the line. Unlike "Railway Jack," the report represented him as too much damaged to be repaired. talking about "Jack," who walks about with a wooden leg, I am reminded of the three legged dog I saw recently at a railway station just before you come to Civita Vecchia. It was a beautiful dog, and it came to beg at the carriage doors; but as it stood up the effect was almost laughable, as it stood entirely on one leg. The other was cut off close to the body. On inquiry I found it had been run over by a train, and amputation had been successfully performed. At the same station I was more than ever impressed with the hideous cruelty to animals openly practiced in Italy. I saw two poor little calves packed alive in an open hamper not big enough to hold a lamb. The poor little things were tied up in a round ball with ropes, their hind legs bound firmly to their heads, and the rope was drawn so tightly about them that they could hardly breathe. In this condition they were going by a slow train a distance of a hundred miles. The S.P.C.A. can do no good, I find, in Italy, as the people and the clergy ridicule the idea of being merciful to beasts "who have no souls." Moreover, the Italians are very jealous of English interference. I will not harrow the minds of my readers with the daily and hourly scenes of hideous cruelty to dumb beasts that I have witnessed. I shudder now as I think of the hapless lot of horses and dogs and cattle born under the sunny skies of the south. There is, however, one august lady who could save the present race and generation of dumb brutes yet unborn their lifelong burden of torture. If the tender  hearted Queen of Italy would but take the matter up, her influence would be instantly beneficial and far spreading and enduring. is it not possible for our society here to broach the matter diplomatically in the right quarter?

An "Help" isn't killed after all. He is well and happy in Worcester. What is one to believe nowadays in the newspaper when they even invent the death of a dog to fill up an odd corner? 

Referce

There was at one time a general impression that dogs find their way home by the scent; but close observation of their habits had led most people to doubt the truth of this conclusion. Even those who accept this theory are quite unable to decide what scent the animals follow -whether the footsteps of their masters or the track of their own paws. A gentleman who had lived for three years at corner house of a street in London became convinced that his terrier, as it made it way whenever it was lost in any part of the metropolis unerringly to his doorstep, was guided by the keenest of its olfactory nerves. but when he at length removed to one of the centre of a row of houses in a dull West-end street, where each doorway was exactly the same in appearance, he was surprised to find his dog frequently, and for a period extending over two years, mistaking the door of someone else on the same side of the way for that of his master. There the dog would sit and persistently bark in order to gain admission; no amount of examination of the steps giving the animal any idea that he was waiting outside the wrong house. The inference afterwards drawn by the owner was that the terrier found his way, not by scent but by observation of objects; in short, in much the same way that the homing pigeon makes its way back; but with this manifest difference, that the latter trusts to its power vision alone, whereas the dog, probably by the examination, is enabled to recognise minute peculiarities at certain stages of his journey from which confirm him in his notion that he is on the right track. The degree of intelligence exhibited under such circumstances varies, however, to a remarkable extent among members of the canine race. A well known collie dog whose death is announced to day seems to have had the faculty developed in a marvellous degree of finding his way from one place to another. He was, in fact a sort of travelling agent for a very deserving institution, called the Railway Servants' Orphanage, which has it headquarters in London. it was no misnomer to have given him the name of "Help," for he has certainly greatly assisted in adding to the funds of the orphanage. For him the railway and those connected with it had a strange charm, and he seemed to be as much at home running about on a platform at Birmingham as he was on one in London. The history of his services has yet to be written, so that we are unable to say how much money he collected by his mute appeals, aided by the collar which he wore. yesterday morning "Help" was killed by a passenger train at Middlesbrough. -- Daily Chronicle.

Thackeray -- who hated Sterne -- lashes the author of "A Sentimental Journey" with a whip of scorn for shedding tears over  dead jackass. Yet it is not difficult to imagine with what pathetic tenderness the creator of Colonel Newcome might himself have praised a dead dog -- no other than the famous Scotch collie "Help," who was run over and killed by a passenger train at a level crossing at Middlesbrough. it was the business and pleasure of this good creature's existence to collect subscriptions for the Orphan fund of the Amalgamated Society of Railway Servants, and in that capacity he travelled over a greater part of the country, always returning safe and sound to headquarters in the City road with the proceeds of his charitable mission intact. Last autumn "Help" paid a visit to the Continent, and was introduced by the captain of the steamship Brittany to Her Majesty's vice consul at Dieppe, at which town he collected one hundred and fifty francs. On the return journey to Newhaven he got six pounds more. Altogether the French trip yielded the society the sum of twelve pounds. the dog was trained to "offices of charity" by one of the guards of the night boat train on the London, Brighton, and South Coast Line. He seemed thoroughly to appreciate the usefulness of his career, and never lost an opportunity of adding to his employers' income. An annual of singularly engaging manners, great intelligence,  and a most generous disposition, "Help" will be sincerely regretted by a large circle of admiring friends. Pope pleaded for the "faithful friend" of the "poor Indian" with "untutored mind" that he might "bear his master company" in the happy hunting ground of the future life. But no such appeal is necessary in this case. A dog's heaven is in his master's approving smile. "Help" lived and died doing his duty; and that man is fortunate; indeed who, dying, can have so much truly recorded for his epitaph. Daily Telegraph 

Well might "Help" say: 

"There sic parades sic pomp, an' art,

The joy can scarcely reach the heart" - of even dogs.

Still in spite of all that has been said:-

"His honest sons, bas't face

Ay gets him friends in ilia place;

His fine white breast, his towzie back

Weel clad with coat of glossy black;

His gawsie tail wi' upward curl,"

will make all our friends the more anxious to see what they can do to add to the great and good work which "only a dog" has done. But if the "general public" have felt and thought so much about "Help," what must have been the feelings of his trainer, John Climpson, and the good secretary of the Railway Servants' Society at the thought of losing so good a friend? We feel sure that everyone will be glad that "Help" is still spared to help on the good work that he been trained to, and rejoice in the fact that after all the fears that were excited in the hearts of the numerous friends the poor doggie made, there is this result - "good cometh out of evil."

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NOTES FROM THE NORTH.

BY "SCOTIA."

It was with bated breath we read the announcement in last Thursday's daily press, "The Death of a Famous Dog." After pursuing the paragraph in question, strange notions forced them-selves upon us. One thing we all displayed, a if moved and controlled by one instinct, vi., sorrow for the loss of our faithful Colley, who, like Burn's "Laugh,"

"Was a gush an' faithfu' tyke.

As ever lap a hough or dyke:

His honest, sonsie, baws'nt face,

Aye gat hem friends in ilka place.

His breast was white, his towzie back

Weel clad wi' coat o' glossy black;

His gauche tail, wi' upward curl,

Hung o'er his hurries wi' a swurl."

And while lamenting the loss to the Orphan fund of its sagacious collector, we found some comfort in the hope that it might not, after all, be our "Help," but some northern tyke steering south without a guide, rather than bear the scanty fare and chilling air of his native heath. Singular to state, in twenty four hours our hopes were realised, by a contradiction of the grave news, with the additional information that "Help" is pegging away some three hundred miles from Middlesbrough. we trust that no epitaph need be written for our worth dog inside the next. ten years.

THE RAILWAY REVIEW

27TH JUNE 1884