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64 Never a scratch or a mark! No, and not even a tear! Little hands feeling their way through the dark. . . What if that other should be stiff and stark? ‘Here I am, Tippy! quite near— Oh, dear!’ Then came the answer: ‘I'm here!’

Crouched in the mouth of a drive, Tippy sobbed out his delight— Not so much hurt, after all—quite alive: Almost convinced that no harm could arrive Now that Tuck’s arms clasped him tight. Then the light Died slowly, and lo! it was Night.

Above—the flag blows to the air: Sad parents seek vainly and weep: There are lights ’mid the thistles, and cries of despair: A rifle cracks loudly, and bonfires glare. . . Below—where the blind creatures creep, Hidden deep, Two pretty babes smile in their sleep.