They say there ain’t no heaven-land fer him, ’Cause dogs is dogs, an’ haven’t any right; But let me tell yer this: without my Jim Th’ very shinin’ streets would seem less bright! An’ somehow I’m a-thinkin’ that if he Could come at that last stirrin’ bugle call Up to th’ gates o’ gold aside o’ me, Where God stands smilin’ welcome to us all, An’ I said: “Father, here’s my dog ... here’s Jim,” They’d find some corner, touched with love, fer him! ------------------ The proceeds from the sale of this book are donated to the Blue Cross Society of France, For the Protection and Care of Animals. Duplicate copies may be obtained for 25 cents each from the publisher. 620 Broadway, New York City ------------------ TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE Punctuation has been normalized. Orthography, hyphenation, and variations therein, have been retained as they were in the original publication. Italicized phrases are presented by surrounding the text with _underscores_. End of Project Gutenberg's War Dogs of the World War, by John I. Anderson