Yes, Tom's the best fellow that ever you knew. Just listen to this:-- When the old mill took fire, and the flooring fell through, And I with it, helpless there, full in my view What do you think my eyes saw through the fire That crept along, crept along, nigher and nigher, But Robin, my baby-boy, laughing to see The shining? He must have come there after me, Toddled alone from the cottage without
Any one's missing him. Then, what a shout-- Oh! how I shouted, "For Heaven's sake, men, Save little Robin!" Again and again They tried, but the fire held them back like a wall. I could hear them go at it, and at it, and call, "Never mind, baby, sit still like a man! We're coming to get you as fast as we can." They could not see him, but I could. He sat Still on a beam, his little straw hat Carefully placed by his side; and his eyes Stared at the flame with a baby's surprise, Calm and unconscious, as nearer it crept. The roar of the fire up above must have kept The sound of his mother's voice shrieking his name From reaching the child. But I heard it. It came Again and again. O God, what a cry! The axes went faster; I saw the sparks fly Where the men worked like tigers, nor minded the heat That scorched them,--when, suddenly, there at their feet, The great beams leaned in--they saw him--then, crash, Down came the wall! The men made a dash,-- Jumped to get out of the way,--and I thought, "All's up with poor little Robin!" and brought Slowly the arm that was least hurt to hide The sight of the child there,--when swift, at my side, Some one rushed by, and went right through the flame, Straight as a dart--caught the child--and then came Back with him, choking and crying, but--saved! Saved safe and sound! Oh, how the men raved, Shouted, and cried, and hurrahed! Then they all Rushed at the work again, lest the back wall Where I was lying, away from the fire, Should fall in and bury me. Oh! you'd admire To see Robin now: he's as bright as a dime, Deep in some mischief, too, most of the time. Tom, it was, saved him. Now, isn't it true Tom's the best fellow that ever you knew? There's Robin now! See, he's strong as a log! And there comes Tom, too-- Yes, Tom was our dog.
On the night of the 11th and 12th of September, 1572, a chosen band of six hundred Spaniards made an attack within the lines of the Dutch army. The sentinels were cut down, the whole army surprised and for a moment powerless. The Prince of Orange and his guards were in profound sleep; "but a small spaniel dog," says Mr. Motley, "who always passed the night upon his bed, was a most faithful sentinel. The creature sprang forward, barking furiously at the sound of hostile footsteps, and scratching his master's face with his paws. There was but just time for the Prince to mount a horse which was ready saddled, and to effect his escape through the darkness, before his enemies sprang into the tent. His servants were cut down, his master of the horse and two of his secretaries, who gained their saddles a moment later, all lost their lives, and but for the little dog's watchfulness, William of Orange, upon whose shoulders the whole weight of his country's fortune depended, would have been led within a week to an ignominious death. To his death, the Prince ever afterwards kept a spaniel of the same race in his bed-chamber."