My Dog Tray — Createspace

Twice every week a poor, thin man, Holding his little daughter's hand, Walked feebly to a hospital, Close by the busy London Strand. He hoped the clever doctors there In time would make him strong and well, That he might go to work again, And live to care for little Nell. Beside wee Nell, her faithful friend, Good old dog Tray was always seen, Never a day apart the pair Since Nelly's babyhood had been.