"
"That reminds me of some poetry, or rather doggerel," said Mr. Harry,
"that I cutout of a newspaper for you yesterday;" and he drew from his
pocket a little slip of paper, and read this:
"Do doggies gang to heaven, Dad?
Will oor auld Donald gang?
For noo to tak' him, faither wi' us,
Wad be maist awfu' wrang."
There was a number of other verses, telling how many kind things old
Donald the dog had done for his master's family, and then it closed with
these lines:
"Withoot are dogs. Eh, faither, man,
'Twould be an awfu' sin
To leave oor faithfu' doggie _there_,
He's _certain_ to win in.
"Oor Donald's no like ither dogs,
He'll _no_ be lockit oot,
If Donald's no let into heaven,
I'll no gang there one foot."
"My sentiments exactly," said a merry voice behind Miss Laura and Mr.
Harry, and looking up they saw Mr. Maxwell. He was holding out one hand
to them, and in the other kept back a basket of large pears that Mr.
Harry promptly took from him, and offered to Miss Laura. "I've been
dependent upon animals for the most part of my comfort in this life,"
said Mr.
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