

Teddy is only a wassail cur 

 With sleepy eye and shaggy fur ; 

 Without a friend or a feathered home, 

 He's doomed to bark and beg and roam 



His but the bones left on the plate 

 By sated dogs of rich and great, 

 Whose feet, in gratitude, he licks, 

 And takes his pay in painful kicks. 



The cocker, beagle, dachs and pug- 

 Play 'round him with contemptuous 

 shrug. 



He, cowering, begs in vain a hand 

 To join the game and gamboling band. 



Who knows the fringe of social sway, 

 Sore beat his heart and sad the day! 

 And may his bones and memory rust, 

 Who sheds no tear on Teddy's dust ! 



%lA***\ IC >io-ff<C 





*~ ~"W 







349 



