Explore "My Dog Tray" by Unknown on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ Twice every week a poor, thin man, / Holding his little daughter's hand, / Walked feebly to a hospital, / Close by the busy London Strand.
He hoped the clever doctors there / In time would make him strong and well, / That he might go to work again, / And live to care for little Nell.