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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=390989" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Bench-Legged Fyce</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Speakin' of dorgs, my bench-legged fyce<br>Hed most o' the virtues, an' nary a vice.<br>Some folks called him Sooner, a name that arose<br>From his predisposition to chronic repose;<br>But, rouse his ambition, he couldn't be beat -<br>Yer bet yer he got thar on all his four feet!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mos' dorgs hez some forte - like huntin' an' such,<br>But the sports o' the field didn't bother him much;<br>Wuz just a plain dorg, an' contented to be<br>On peaceable terms with the neighbors an' me;<br>Used to fiddle an' squirm, and grunt "Oh, how nice!"<br>When I tickled the back of that bench-legged fyce!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He wuz long in the bar'l, like a fyce oughter be;<br>His color wuz yaller as ever you see;<br>His tail, curlin' upward, wuz long, loose, an' slim -<br>When he didn't wag it, why, the tail it wagged him!<br>His legs wuz so crooked, my bench-legged pup<br>Wuz as tall settin' down as he wuz standin' up!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He'd lie by the stove of a night an' regret<br>The various vittles an' things he had et;<br>When a stranger, most likely a tramp, come along,<br>He'd lift up his voice in significant song -<br>You wondered, by gum! how there ever wuz space<br>In that bosom o' his'n to hold so much bass!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of daytimes he'd sneak to the road an' lie down,<br>An' tackle the country dorgs comin' to town;<br>By common consent he wuz boss in St. Joe,<br>For what he took hold of he never let go!<br>An' a dude that come courtin' our girl left a slice<br>Of his white flannel suit with our bench-legged fyce!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He wuz good to us kids - when we pulled at his fur<br>Or twisted his tail he would never demur;<br>He seemed to enjoy all our play an' our chaff,<br>For his tongue 'u'd hang out an' he'd laff an' he'd laff;<br>An' once, when the Hobart boy fell through the ice,<br>He wuz drug clean ashore by that bench-legged fyce!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We all hev our choice, an' you, like the rest,<br>Allow that the dorg which you've got is the best;<br>I wouldn't give much for the boy 'at grows up<br>With no friendship subsistin' 'tween him an' a pup!<br>When a fellow gits old - I tell you it's nice<br>To think of his youth and his bench-legged fyce!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To think of the springtime 'way back in St. Joe -<br>Of the peach-trees abloom an' the daisies ablow;<br>To think of the play in the medder an' grove,<br>When little legs wrassled an' little han's strove;<br>To think of the loyalty, valor, an' truth<br>Of the friendships that hallow the season of youth!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Eugene+Field">Eugene Field</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=390989" data-title="The Bench-Legged Fyce de Eugene Field" data-description="Speakin' of dorgs, my bench-legged fyce Hed most o' the virtues, an' nary a vice. Some folks called him Sooner, a name that arose From his predisposition to chronic repose; But, rouse his ambition, he couldn't be beat - Yer bet yer he got thar on ..."></div> </div> </div>
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