Stretch'd before the fire, is the weary, rough-coated house-dog,
Winking his eyes, full of sleep, at the baby, seated on his shoulder,
Proudly watching his master's darling, and the pet of the family,
As hither and thither on its small feet it toddles unsteadily.
On the straight-back'd oaken settle, congregate the older children.
Work have they, or books, and sometimes the weekly newspaper,
Grey, on coarse, crumpled paper, and borrowed from house to house,
Small-sized, yet precious, and read through from beginning to end,
Bright, young heads circling close, peering together over its columns.
Now and then, furtive glances reconnoitre the ingle-side,