But never yet the dog our country fed, Betrayed the kindness or forgot the bread.
Every man loves and admires his own country because it produced him.
Ask any school-boy up to the age of fifteen where he would spend his holidays. Not one in five hundred will say, "In the streets of London," if you give him the option of green fields and running waters. It is, then, a fair presumption that there must be something of the child still in the character of the men or the women whom the country charms in maturer as in dawning life.
In other countries poverty is a misfortune - with us it is a crime.
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