NLY a dirty black-and-white dog!
You can see him any day,
Trotting meekly from street to street:
He almost seems to say,
As he looks in your face with wistful eyes,
"I don't mean to be in your way."
His tail hangs drooping between his legs;
His body is thin and spare:
How he envies the sleek and well-fed dogs,
That thrive on their masters' care!
And he wonders what they must think of him,
And grieves at his own hard fare.
Sometimes he sees a friendly face,—
A face that he seems to know;
And thinks it may be the master
That he lost so long ago;
And even dares to follow him home,
For he loved his master so!
Poor Jack! He's only mistaken again,
And stoned and driven back;
But he's used to disappointments now,
And takes up his beaten track;
Nobody's dog, for whom nobody cares,—
Poor unfortunate Jack!