Dobbin's Friend
Dobbin has a little friend, Spotted white and sable; Every day she goes to him, In his lonely stable. Not a mite of dread has she, Not a thought of danger, Lightly runs between his hoofs, Jumps upon his manger, Lays her soft warm cheek to his, Purrs her meek "Good-morning!" Gives the flies that hover near Such a look of warning. 
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