hey've turned me out to die alone,
Without a shelter for my head,
Without a scrap of bread or bone.

"This morning I can hardly crawl,
While shivering in the snow and hail;
My teeth are dropping, one by one;
I scarce have strength to wag my tail.

"I'm palsied grown with mortal pains,
My withered limbs are useless now;
My voice is almost gone you see,
And I can hardly make my bow.

"Perhaps you'll lead me to a shed
Where I may find some friendly straw
On which to lay my aching limbs,
And rest my helpless, broken paw.

"Stranger, excuse this story long,
And pardon, pray, my last appeal;
You've owned a dog yourself, perhaps,
And learned that dogs, like men, can feel."

Yes, poor old Rover, come with me;
Food, with warm shelter, I'll supply;
And Heaven forgive the cruel souls
Who drove you forth to starve and die!

J. T. FIELDS.

* * * * *

TO MY DOG "BLANCO."

My dear dumb friend, low lying there,
A willing vassal at my feet,
Glad partner of my home and fare,
My shadow in the street.

I look into your great brown eyes,
Where love and loyal homage shine,
And wonder where the difference lies
Between your soul and mine!

For all of good that I have found
Within myself or humankind,
Hath royalty informed and crowned
Your gentle heart and mind.

I scan the whole broad earth around
For that one heart which, leal and true,
Bears friendship without end or bound,
And find the prize in you.

I trust you as I trust the stars;
Nor cruel loss, nor scoff of pride,
Nor beggary, nor dungeon-bars,
Can move you from my side!

As patient under injury
As any Christian saint of old,
As gentle as a lamb with me,
But with your brothers bold;

More playful than a frolic boy,
More watchful than a sentinel,
By day and night your constant joy,
To guard and please me well:

I clasp your head upon my breast--
And while you whine and lick my hand--
And thus our friendship is confessed
And thus we understand!

Ah, Blanco! did I worship God
As truly as you worship me,
Or follow where my master trod
With your humility;

Did I sit fondly at His feet,
As you, dear Blanco, sit at mine,