THROUGH THE MIST. 2
But while I live, and can earn his keep, Old Charcoal and I won t part ;
For, squire, I really think sometimes The dog has a human heart.
My little Jacky he loved him so
And Jacky he s gone, you see ; And so it pears as if Charcoal knows
That he s more than folks to me."
The squire is gone with his horse and hound,
And master and I still wait Together, and side by side go in
At night through the lonely gate ; But by and by one must go alone
One only be left of three, To pass the gate and cottage-door :
Alas ! if it should be me !
��THROUGH THE MIST.
THE cold white mist crept silently Up from the river s edge, Hanging its curtain from the sky .
Down to the sodden sedge ; I could not see the ragged shine
Of wavelets dancing fair, But, though I saw no merry stream, I knew the stream was there.