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"'I never barked when out of season;
I never bit without a reason;
I ne'er insulted weaker brother,
Nor wronged by fraud or force another;'
Though brutes are placed a rank below,
Happy for man could he say so."
Boston
Small, Maynard & Company
Publishers
Copyright, 1916
By SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY
(INCORPORATED)
The literature of the Anglo-Saxon is rich in tributes to the dog, as becomes a race which beyond any other has
understood and developed its four-footed companions. Canine heroes whose intelligence and faithfulness our
prose writers have celebrated start to the memory in scores—Bill Sykes's white shadow, which refused to be
separated from its master even by death; Rab, savagely devoted; the immortal Bob, "son of battle"true souls
all, with hardly a villain among them for artistic contrast. Even Red Wull, the killer, we admire for his
courage and lealty.
Within these covers is a selection from a large body of dog verse. It is a selection made on the principle of
human appeal. Dialect, and the poems of the earlier writers whose diction strikes oddly on our modern ears,
have for the most part been omitted. The place of such classics as may be missed is filled by that vagrant verse
which is often most truly the flower of inspiration.
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