While the Billy Boils by Henry Lawson
page 71 of 337 (21%)
page 71 of 337 (21%)
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"That--that there old dog of mine has follered me faithful and true,
these twelve long hard and hungry years. He's about--about the only thing that ever cared whether I lived or fell and rotted on the cursed track." He rested again; then he continued: "That--that there dog was pupped on the track," he said, with a sad sort of a smile. "I carried him for months in a billy, and afterwards on my swag when he knocked up....And the old slut--his mother--she'd foller along quite contented--and sniff the billy now and again--just to see if he was all right....She follered me for God knows how many years. She follered me till she was blind--and for a year after. She follered me till she could crawl along through the dust no longer, and--and then I killed her, because I couldn't leave her behind alive!" He rested again. "And this here old dog," he continued, touching Tally's upturned nose with his knotted fingers, "this here old dog has follered me for--for ten years; through floods and droughts, through fair times and--and hard--mostly hard; and kept me from going mad when I had no mate nor money on the lonely track; and watched over me for weeks when I was drunk--drugged and poisoned at the cursed shanties; and saved my life more'n once, and got kicks and curses very often for thanks; and forgave me for it all; and--and fought for me. He was the only living thing that stood up for me against that crawling push of curs when they set onter me at the shanty back yonder--and he left his mark on some of 'em too; and--and so did I." He took another spell. |
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