Jan and Rollo quivered with excitement and envy when they saw the older dogs pass through the long corridors that day, and each time one of the monks came into the basement where the dogs waited, all of them started to their feet and wagged their tails, hoping to be taken out for work.

While Jan and Rollo watched and waited, their mother talked to them.

“Sometimes,” she said, “you will find a white mound, and you must never pass it by without digging to see if any one is under it.  You have learned already that when you find a man, you must lick his face and hands to waken him, and if you cannot rouse him, so that he will stand up, or put his arms about your neck, you must hurry to the Hospice to bring the monks.  That way, you may save a life, and then, perhaps, you will have a collar or a medal, like Barry, and travellers who sit in the big room will be told that you were worthy of your ancestors.”

“Tell us about the Big Room,” begged Rollo, while Jan gave a gentle little nudge of his nose to coax his mother.  Both of them had heard many times from their mother, from Bruno, and the other older dogs, about the Big Room, yet they never tired hearing of it.  Now they bunched themselves into furry balls with their heads against their mother’s soft breast, as she began:  “In the Big Room are many beautiful pictures that have been sent from travellers rescued by our kinsfolk.  Sometimes a handsome collar is sent to a dog that has saved a life, but the greatest honor of all was the medal that was given to Barry, and the beautiful marble monument that you puppies have seen near the Hospice.  Your father had a collar sent to him by the men he saved.  They knew he would never wear it, but they asked that it be hung above the fireplace in the Big Room.  Some day, I hope you, Jan and Rollo, will have collars there.  Now, run and play,” she ended, giving each pup a push with her nose.  “Even though you cannot go out to-day, you must romp, for that will make your backs and legs strong.  If you are not strong you will be sent away from the Hospice and never come back.  That is a terrible thing for a St. Bernard.  I don’t want it to happen to either of you!”

Though it was so cold and stormy, the two dogs leaped to their feet and ran through the half-shut door that led to the big enclosure.  Jan was ahead, and Rollo scampered after him.  Around and around the yard they went, dodging each other until Rollo managed to catch the tip of his brother’s fuzzy tail.  This did not make Jan stop running, so Rollo was dragged after him through the heaps of snow, rolling over and over but clinging tightly until Jan turned and pounced upon him.  They tumbled about, sometimes Jan was on top, sometimes Rollo, and they looked like a huge, yellow spider with eight sturdy, furry legs kicking wildly.  At last, panting, they sprawled facing each other with pink tongues hanging from their open mouths and eyes twinkling merrily.