to see the bow-wows, and I looked at every one,
Proud dogs of each breed and strain that's underneath the sun;
But not one could compare with--you may hear it with surprise--
A little yellow dog I know that never took a prize.

Not that they would have skipped him when they gave the ribbons out,
Had there been a class to fit him--though his lineage is in doubt.
No judge of dogs could e'er resist the honest, faithful eyes
Of that plain little yellow dog that never took a prize.

Suppose he wasn't trained to hunt, and never killed a rat,
And isn't much on tricks or looks or birth--well, what of that?
That might be said of lots of folks whom men call great and wise,
As well as of that yellow dog that never took a prize.

It isn't what a dog can do, or what a dog may be,
That hits a man. It's simply this--does he believe in me?
And by that test I know there's not the compeer 'neath the skies
Of that plain little yellow dog that never took a prize.

Oh, he's the finest little pup that ever wagged a tail,
And followed man with equal joy to Congress or to jail.
I'm going to start a special show--'Twill beat the world for size--
For faithful little yellow dogs, and each shall have a prize.

ANONYMOUS.

CAESAR, KING EDWARD'S DOG

No deeper, truer love could spring
Spontaneously from human breast
Than Caesar's, who has loved the king
With all a dear dog's silent zest.

A dog's dumb way may not impart
The grief that mortals can express,
But who shall say that Caesar's heart
Mourns his beloved king the less?

Since ours the faith, "Love lives in space,"
His love, whene'er his soul takes wing,
May be ordained, by Heaven's grace,
To reach the spirit of the king.

O. MIDDLETON.

JUST OUR DOG

He was just a dog, mister--that's all;
And all of us boys called him Bub;
He was curly and not very tall
And he hadn't a tail--just a stub.
His tail froze one cold night, you see;
We just pulled the rest of him through.
No--he didn't have much pedigree--
Perhaps that was frozen off, too.

He always seemed quite well behaved,
And he never had many bad fights;
In summer he used to be shaved
And he slept in the woodshed o' nights.
Sometimes he would wake up too soon
And cry, if his tail got a chill;
Some nights he would bark at the moon,
But some nights he would sleep very still.

He kn