104
POEMS BY CLARA A. MERRILL
As snugly it nestled 'neath the boy's ragged frock It said (as plainly as a poor dog can talk) I love you, dear friend—I'll help you if I can; For in all this vast throng there's but you that's a man!
Then came the dog's master, who found it so wet,And he sought now to fondle his dearly loved pet In a loving embrace.—but it clung to the boy With many plain manifestations of joy. While its glance towards its master said plain as it could:—"I'll stay with this laddie because he is good.""Oh! my little pet knows you are honest and true; The dog's name is Gipsy, and well he loves you.
But say, little man, how came you to save'A poor little cur ' from a watery grave?""I know what it is to be friendless," he said,—"I've no friends, or home, now since Mother is dead—I know what it is to be hungry—forlorn—I've not tasted food, sir, since yesterday morn. And at night I must sleep where I happen to be—And I thought this poor doggie was friendless like me.
The gentleman's head was bowed low.—And he thought Of his sister, who married a poor drunken sot,—Ten years it had been since he last saw her face—And five it had been since of her he lost trace.
