On the friendly crowd, heard his master say,
“Na, na, that doggie ye couldna buy—
Not though his weight in gold ye would pay!”
Skye, of Skye, they have made him a bed
On the wind-swept cliff, by the ocean’s swell;
On the stone they have reared above his head,
You may see a little dog ringing a bell.
[TIP’S KITTEN]
The master,—he loved my kitten, my kitten;