The soft winds have a magic touch
That brings to care release,
The trees are vocal with delight,
The rivers sing of peace.
How good it is to be alive!
Nature, the healer strong,
Has set each pulse with life athrill
And joy and song.
Discouragement! 'Twas but a name,
And all things that annoy,
Out in the lovely world of June
Life seemeth only joy!
And ere we reach the busy town,
Like birds my troubles fly,
We are two comrades glad of heart--
My dog and I!
ALICE J. CLEATOR.
MY GENTLEMAN
I own a dog who is a gentleman;
By birth most surely, since the creature can
Boast of a pedigree the like of which
Holds not a Howard nor a Metternich.
By breeding. Since the walks of life he trod
He never wagged an unkind tale abroad,
He never snubbed a nameless cur because
Without a friend or credit card he was.
By pride. He looks you squarely in the face
Unshrinking and without a single trace
Of either diffidence or arrogant
Assertion such as upstarts often flaunt.
By tenderness. The littlest girl may tear
With absolute impunity his hair,
And pinch his silken, flowing ears, the while
He smiles upon her--yes, I've seen him smile.
By loyalty.
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