But I don’t intend this essa for dogs in the lump, but for the individual yellar dog himself.

The yellar dog haz no pedigree, the blood in hiz veins iz az krude az petroleum, when it fust cums pumping out ov the earth, bitter, thick, and fiery.

He iz long, and lazily put together, hiz ears flop when he shacks along the dusty thoroughfare, and hiz tail iz a burden.

Thare iz no animashun in a yeller dog’s tail, it iz useless, the flies aint even afraid ov it, it iz wus than a 10 per cent mortgage tew the rest ov hiz boddy.

Whi the Yeller dog aint born diskounted, iz a mistery tew me, but when i ask miself, “Whare would yu hitch the tin pan to,” then at once the folly ov a bob tailed yeller dog, flashes on mi mind.

Ever since this kontinent waz found bi Christopher Columbus, in 1492, and for what i kno, much time previous tew that, 112 the Yeller dog haz been a vagrant, travelling bi moon lite, and hungry bi natur.

Whare he cums from noboddy seems to know, and if yu speak a kind word tew him, he thinks it a kite in disguise, and straddling hiz tail, with both hind legs, he goes suspicious, and sideways, on his lonesum jurney.

Mankind hav made him a vagabond, and life to him iz made up ov starvashun, and brickbats.

If he cums out ov hiz lurking place in the hot ov august, he iz a “mad dog,” and the common council at once assemble, the riot act iz read, 50 dollars reward iz offered, men cum panting into town, crieing “mad dog,” their two horse waggon waz bit that morning, bi a yaller dog, the fury rages, old guns are kleaned up, the cannon iz run out on the village green, dames talk to dames ov the awful event, men look sober and defiant, boys pocket their marbles in the midst ov the game, pigs run squealing tew their hovels, and the whole boddy politik surges with horror.

The poor innocent whelp haz done hiz worst, and while a whole village iz in the extacys ov hydrophobia he has passed on, and may be seen, tugging away, in the subburbs, at the shin bone ov a departed omnibus hoss.

The yeller dog haz but one friend among men, and that iz the darkey.

A common misfortune links them together.

Why iz it, that the old negro, and hiz yeller dog, are vagabonds on the face ov the earth?

Mans inhumanity iz wuss than the malice ov wild beasts.

A day ov reckoning will cum, a day ov judgment, and i kant tell but what the yeller dog will be thare, a mute witness, and then, and thare, will the grate problem be solved.

This wurld iz phull ov grate wrongs, and the next one will az certainly be az phull ov grate retribushuns.

I kant endure the sight ov oppreshun, it disgraces mi manhood, if i had money enuff i would like tew buy even all the yeller dogs thare iz now on the buzzum ov the earth, and make them respekted and happy.

But i haint got the money, nor never shall hav, but az long az i hav strength tew steer a gooze quill, and blood enuff in mi heart for ink, i will bid mankind beware ov oppreshun, i dont kare whether it is in hi places or low, the oppreshun ov caste, the oppreshun ov wealth, or even the low, and degrading oppreshun, ov a tin pale, in hot pursuit, ov the friendless, yelping, yeller dog.

Yeller dogs will sumtime, and sumwhare, hav their day, and when the huge piles ov brikbats, and mountains ov old tin ware, cums into court, i want tew be thare, for i am anxious tew know what the line ov defence will be.