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Tis pity not to have a dog, for at the long day's end, The man or boy will know the joy, Of welcome from a friend. And whether he be rich or poor, Or much of little bring, The dog will mark his step and bark, As if he were a King. Though gossips whisper now and then, Of faults they plainly see, And some may sneer, from year to year, My dog stays true to me.
Sasha
