s, and we would sometimes come upon him
dangling across a slender hand-chair, while his panting bearers
struggled up the hill to College Hall. On seeing us, he would scramble
down and sheepishly make off with an exaggerated limp. Once we chanced
on a group of freshmen holding a picnic party with King Sigurd
enthroned on a mossy log in the center, his gilt-paper crown tipped
rakishly over one eye. He delighted in picnics, cross-country walks,
the May-day frolic on the campus, and constantly imperiled his life by
frisking about on tennis court, golf links and archery fields. The
girls would use him as a postman, sending him from one to another with
notes, not always delivered, swinging from his collar, and he often
appeared at the door of a college fair or other festivity wearing the
ticket which some lavish chum had bought for him. He was about the
college grounds and buildings so much that we feared he might become a
nuisance, as well as depart from the few principles of collie conduct
we had labored to instill. Much to his indignation, therefore, we made
him address to the students, through the columns of our little college
weekly,

A DOGGEREL PETITION

Sigurd begs to say to his friends
That for certain inscrutable ends,
Quite apart from his own sweet way,
There are laws he ought to obey;
And because the sight of a girl
Puts the tip of his tail in a curl,
And sends, with a pit-a-pat start,
The commandments out of his heart,
He has to entreat you should
All help poor Sigurd be good.
'Tisn't easy to choke one's barks,
With squirrels making remarks;
'Tisn't easy to travel home
With girls enticing to roam.
All nice things seem to be naughty;
So it's not that Sigurd's grown haughty,
When he meets you at eve on the meadow,
A yellow scud in the shadow,
And passes your grocery bag
With only a wistful wag.
The New Year's good resolutions,
If broken, bring retributions;
So Sigurd beseeches--'tis hard--
That you shouldn't call him off guard;
Nor tempt that inquisitive rover,
That affectionate follower, over
The threshold of College Hall;
Nor let him trustfully sprawl
In the pathway of many feet.
And don't, though the sin is sweet,
Don't, for the gleam of his eyes,
His expectant ears' uprise,
For his nose's coaxing nudge,
Feed Sigurd infinite fudge.

That helped him through