But the smartest dog I ever saw, or ever hope to see
Was a cross-bred Skye Fox Terrier that once belonged to me
The way I came to own him was a strange one, you will say
It happened I was fishing up the Thames one Christmas day.

I had no luck, but persevered till fell the shades of night
And just as I was leaving off, at last I got a bite
I gave a jerk, and up there came a dog, a perfect wreck
The live bait in his mouth and two large brickbats round his neck.

I reckoned, by the look of him, he'd been immersed for weeks
For his stomach was inflated and his hair was off in streaks
But I hauled him in and wrung him out, and, though too weak to stand
He, in a grateful kind of manner, tried to bite my hand.

  But after he had gulped a half a pint of whiskey down
He felt his feet and walked behind me, home to Camden Town
And from that time, till he went wrong, his sole aim seemed to be
To show, by every action, his deep gratitude to me.

'Twas plain to see the best and greatest charm he had in life
Was doing things about the house to please me and the wife
He used to turn the mangle, take the children out for walks
Make the beds, fetch up the coals, and clean the knives and forks.

Our vegetables, groceries, and bread he always bought
And once he bit the baker, on receiving twopence short
When baby cried, to please her, he would do all kinds of tricks
Or sit and build her houses with her little box of bricks.

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