This dog and man at first were friends;
But, when a pique began,
The dog, to gain some private ends,
Went mad, and bit the man.
Around from all the neighbouring streets
The wondering neighbours ran;
And swore the dog had lost his wits,
To bite so good a man.
The wound it seem’d both sore and sad
To every christian eye;
And while they swore the dog was mad,
They swore the man would die.
But soon a wonder came to light,
That show’d the rogues they lied—
The man recover’d of the bite;
The dog it was that died.
FOOTNOTES:
[37] “‘My brother Dick,’ cried Bill, my youngest, ‘is just gone out with sister Livy; but Mr. Williams has taught me two songs, and I’ll sing them for you, Papa. Which song do you choose, the Dying Swan, or the Elegy on the Mad Dog?’ ‘The Elegy, child, by all means,’ said I: ‘I never heard that yet.’”—Vicar of Wakefield, Chap. XVII.