end
Of life will find you leal, unweary
Of tested bonds that naught can rend,
And e'en if years be sad and dreary,
Our plighted friendship will extend.

A truer friend man never had;
'Tis sad
That 'mongst all earthly friends the fewest
Unfaithful ones should thus be clad
In canine lowliness; yet truest
They, be their treatment good or bad.

Within your eyes methinks I find
A kind
And thoughtful look of speechless feeling
That mem'ry's loosened cords unbind,
And let the dreamy past come stealing
Through your dumb, reflective mind.

Scout, my trusty friend, can it be
You see
Again, in retrospective dreaming,
The run, the woodland, and the lea,
With past autumnal sunshine streaming
O'er ev'ry frost-dyed field and tree?

Or do you see now once again
The glen
And fern, the highland, and the thistle?
And do you still remember when
We heard the bright-eyed woodcock whistle
Down by the rippling, shrub-edged fen?

I see you turn a listening ear
To hear
The quail upon the flower-pied heather;
But, doggie, wait till uplands sere,
And then the autumn's waning weather
Will bring the sport we hold so dear.

Then we will hunt the loamy swale
And trail
The snipe, their cunning wiles o'ercoming;
And oft will flush the bevied quail,
And hear the partridge slowly drumming
Dull echoes in the leaf-strewn dale.

When wooded hills with crimson light
Are bright,
We'll stroll where trees and vines are growing,
And see birds warp their southern flight
At sundown, when the Day King's throwing
Sly kisses to the Queen of Night.

FRANK H. SELDEN.

WHY STRIK'ST THOU ME?

Why dost thou strike me?--Ever faithful
In service to thee do I live;
And often when thou wert in peril
My very utmost would I give;
My life I would lay down for thee!
Why strik'st thou me?

In blustering storm and cruel Winter,
In murky night or through the day,
Obedient I have trotted by thee
And guarded thee along the way.
I've watched thee and protected thee:
Why strik'st thou me?

When flashed the robber's steel against thee,
When thou wert threatened by his arm,
And thou didst call for aid and rescue,
Who saved thee then from mortal harm?
My blood flowed on the sand for thee: