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Until the noiseless maid will lift the latch. And like a spring That gains its power by being tightly stayed, The impatient thing Into the room Its whole glad heart doth fling, And ere the gloom Melts into light, and window blinds are rolled, I hear a bounce upon the bed, I feel a creeping toward me--a soft head, And on my face A tender nose, and cold-- This is the way, you know, that dogs embrace-- And on my hand, like sun-warmed rose-leaves flung, The least faint flicker of the warmest tongue --And so my dog and I have met and sworn Fresh love and fealty for another morn. HARDWICKE DRUMMOND RAWNSLEY. THE LOST PUPPY Say! little pup, What's up? Your tail is down And out of sight Between your legs; Why, that ain't right. Little pup, Brace up! Say! little pup, Look up! Don't hang your head And look so sad, You're all mussed up, But you ain't mad. Little pup, Cheer up! Say! little pup, Stir up! Is that a string Around your tail? And was it fast To a tin pail? Little pup, Git up. Say! little pup, Talk up. Were those bad boys All after you, With sticks and stones, And tin cans, too? Little pup, Speak up! Say! little pup, Stand up! Let's look at you; You'd be all right If you was scrubbed And shined up bright. Little pup, Jump up! Say! little pup, Bark up! Let's hear your voice. Say, you're a brick! Now try to beg And do a trick. Little pup, Sit up! Say! little pup, Chime up! Why, you can sing-- Now come with me; Let's wash and eat And then we'll see, Little pup, What's up! HENRY FIRTH WOOD. A LAUGH IN CHURCH She sat on the sliding cushion, The dear, wee woman of four; Her feet, in their shiny slippers, Hung dangling over the floor. She meant to be good; she had promised, And so with her big, brown eyes, She stared at the meetinghouse windows And counted the crawling flies. She looked far up at the preacher, But she thought of the honeybees Droning away at the blossoms That whitened the cherry trees. She thought of a broken basket, Where curled in a dusky heap, Four sleek, round puppies, with fringy ears. Lay snuggled
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