This edited article about medicine originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 643 published on 11 May 1974.

Louis Pasteur sees the results of his experiment with a vaccine for anthrax, by Peter Jackson

The Jura, in France, is hilly country, with sleepy vineyards and farms, and green forests. The little town of Dole, nestling around a tumbling stream, is characteristic of the whole region. It is the sort of area where time seems to stand still and life to go on unchanged and unhurried. Yet Dole saw the birth, in 1822, of the boy who eventually became the biggest single influence in 19th century medicine.

Louis Pasteur grew up here as a quiet, gentle country boy and, characteristically, it was a country problem which spurred him on to some of his most dangerous and important work.

Like many areas of Europe, the Jura was plagued with mad dogs and wolves which roamed free, biting anyone who came in their path. These animals often suffered from a disease called rabies which, if passed to humans, caused a horrible and agonizing death.

While still only a small boy, Louis Pasteur saw a mad dog rush through his town, biting several people as it went. The atmosphere of terror was bad enough, but Louis then saw the local blacksmith searing the wounds with a hot iron in an attempt to disinfect them and save the victim’s life. It was a scene he could never forget and one which sometimes seemed destined to haunt him all his days.

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This edited article about English folksong and customs originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 873 published on 7 October 1978.

John Peel by Pat Nicolle

Many people will have heard the lines:

D’ye ken John Peel,
With his coat so grey?

But not everyone knows who this mysterious figure was, or why his coat was so grey.

The truth of the matter is that John Peel was a local character who lived in the Lake District around the beginning of the nineteenth century. He died in 1854 and is buried in Caldbeck churchyard.

Peel came from an old yeoman family that had owned land in the North of England for hundreds of years. He did not have to work, which is presumably why he had so much time to spend on the hobby that made him famous – fox-hunting.

Hunting was Peel’s all-consuming passion. He would have meets in the early morning while the mist was still on the hills, and would carry on until sunset.

Not for John Peel, however, were the hunting pinks and sleek foxhounds that one sees at a meet today. He wore a top hat and a grey coat and ran a pack of mongrels.

Around-the-world dog Owney by Barrie Linklater

Owney the mongrel was adopted by the staff of the Albany Post Office in New York and rode Post Office trucks until he had visited every state in the Union. In 1895 he boarded the SS Victoria and set off around the world.

This picture is by Barrie Linklater.

No one would normally think of bull-fighters as coming from Scotland, but in Clarkston, Renfrewshire, the people still talk about their famous matador. His name is Rudiger von Stoer, better known to his friends as Rudi — a pet dachshund. One day in 1951, Rudi, his master Commander Mowat and a friend, Mr. Hugh Welch, were visiting a farm. Suddenly an enormous bull charged at Mr. Welch, picked him up and threw him to the ground. Mr. Welch was strong for his age. He held on to the bull’s horns and tried to push the animal away from him, but the enormous power and weight were too much for him and the animal rammed its head hard against his chest. Although some distance away, Commander Mowat immediately ran to his friend’s aid, but a small, short-legged hound raced past him. Rudiger von Stoer had come to the rescue.

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Wendy was just twelve months old when the R.S.P.C.A. found her a good home with the Bolding family of Weymouth, Dorset. She was a friendly little dog, but extremely nervous. Nine-year-old Nigel Bolding took her for walks, so that she would get to know her new surroundings and become used to the busy roads and traffic.

One day, in February 1966, Nigel and Wendy were exploring the heathland at Bowleaze Cove when Nigel slipped down a steep bank and fell into a quagmire at the bottom. Wendy was panic-stricken and barked with fear as the treacherous mud slowly sucked poor Nigel down. Soon only his head and shoulders could be seen …

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Greyfriars Bobby was a Skye terrier. His coat was slate-grey and silver and he had the hardiness acquired by those of his breed who, like himself, were born on the heather-clad Scottish hills.

Bobby had devotedly attached himself to Auld Jock, a shepherd, a man about whom nothing was known, except his fondness for Bobby. The two of them came into Edinburgh one market day in the year 1858, and never returned to the hills, for Auld Jock fell ill and died in the city. Such was Bobby’s devotion to the old man that he refused to leave him even after the funeral. For the next fourteen years Bobby slept on Auld Jock’s grave almost every night, and nothing could persuade him to leave. His lonely vigil became known throughout Scotland, and even Queen Victoria, when at Balmoral, asked for news of the brave little Skye terrier. He was made a Freeman of the City of Edinburgh and was given a collar with a small metal plate inscribed: Greyfriars Bobby. From the Lord Provost, 1867. Licensed.

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