the wretched critter condemned to three.
And Hoskins’s duty was plain to him: his
youngsters wailed for the milk they missed,
But Hoskins thought of his poor, poor dogs and
gripped his dollars tight in his fist.
He shut his ears to his children’s cries, he steeled
his heart when he passed the pound,
To the mute appeal in the old cow’s eyes; but
he smiled at last when his dogs were found.
And he gladly proffered the three lone plunks