"Poor little chap!" the showman said,
"Your day at last is done,
No more you'll fly at Punch's head,
Or cause the Clown to run,
Poor little chap! you're weak, too weak
To join the Peepshow fun!"
"Out of the road I picked you up,
'Tis years and years ago,
Your leg was badly injured, pup,
Run over as you know.
I bound the limb, and took you home,
And soon you join'd the Show."
"Many a mile we've tramped, old dog,
And many a place we've seen,
And you where'er our feet might jog,
Have faithful ever been.
And rarely a rough or angry word
Has come our lives between."
"Toby I wish that you could speak,
One word in answer say,
No! e'en to bark you are too weak,
Or you would still obey.
I know not what the show will do
When you have passed away!"
Lovingly then poor Toby crept
Towards his master's side
And licked his hand--the Showman wept!
For less things men have cried!
And there full grateful to the last
His old companion died.
E. Oxenford.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------