Part 4

But in midocean one midnight— ’Twas very, very dark— The pilot screamed in sudden fright, “I hear a passing _bark_!”

“Oh, what is that?” the kitten said. The pilot said, “I fear An _ocean greyhound’s_ just ahead, And drawing very near.”

“Alack!” the kitten cried, “alack! This is no paltry pup! An _ocean greyhound’s_ on my track! I may as well give up!”

OUT FOR A HIGH TIME.

E. LOUISE LIDDELL.

Three gay little kittens, named Black, White and Gray, From their own cozy corner once wandered away. And old Mother Catkins, asleep on her chair, Ne’er dreamed that her babies were off “on a tear.”

The kitty-cats frolicked, and gambolled, and ran, And cut up such capers as only cats can; And when they encountered a very high wall, Up scrambled and clambered the little cats all.

“We’re out for a high time,” the kitty-cats said; And they danced a few quicksteps; turned heels overhead. Then Whitey and Graycoat struck up a sweet tune, While Black sat sedately and mewed at the moon.

But brief was their pleasure. They soon heard a yell Of “Scat there, you cats there!” while shoes and things fell. Down scrambled and tumbled the poor little kits, And scampered off homeward, scared out of their wits.

With joy, their warm corner the runaways spied; And when they were nestled by old Catkin’s side, The kittens purred softly, “No more will we roam, For all the world over, there’s no place like home.”

WE CATS.

## ACTION SONG.

[Music:

1. [1]We sit upon the mat, Each comfortable cat, And we [2]lick our sleek, soft fur, you see; Then we [3]curl up on the rug, And we [4]lay ourselves so snug, And in [5]happy dreams we purr, you see, In happy dreams we purr, you see. [6]When dinner-time comes round How hungry we are found, With our [7]eager paws held out, you see; And the [8]kittens rush and roll, [9]Till they tumble in the bowl, And they [10]splash the milk about, you see, And they [11]splash the milk about.

2. But if [12]a dog should bark, With bristling ears we hark, And with [13]saucer eyes we glare, you see; For we [14]know the way to fight, We can [15]scratch and we can bite— Let him enter if he dare, you see, [16]Let him enter if he dare, you see. What merry games and free [17]We have when dinner’s done! And how gaily then we [18]play, you see! For a feather is enough, [19]Or a little bit of fluff, [20]To amuse our kits all [21]day, you see, To amuse our kits all day.

3. [1]We sit upon the mat, Each comfortable cat, And we [2]lick our sleek soft fur, you see; Then we [3]curl up on the rug, And we [4]lay ourselves so snug, And in [5]happy dreams we purr, you see, In happy dreams we purr, you see. But [22]when the night comes round A-hunting [23]we are bound, And we [24]rampage thro’ the house, you see! We have [25]played, and slept, and fought, And [26]now we think we ought Just to [27]catch a fine, fat mouse, [28]you see, [29]Just to catch a fine, fat mouse.]

[Illustration: PICTURE VIII.

“Oh, she do be ser very nice.”]

[Illustration: PICTURE IX.

“Maybe I mite dess tazy dit, Ef f’um titten I did part.”]

DIRECTIONS FOR ACTIONS IN “WE CATS.”

[Footnote 1: Each child should sit on a footstool.]

[Footnote 2: Affect to lick breast and paws like a cat.]

[Footnote 3: Lay head down on curled left arm upon knee.]

[Footnote 4: Change attitude to right arm.]

[Footnote 5: Look up with shut eyes, blink and smile, and lay head down again.]

[Footnote 6: All get up and look about eagerly.]

[Footnote 7: Stand on tiptoes and raise paws, like a cat begging; open mouth.]

[Footnote 8: Run three steps to left.]

[Footnote 9: Same action to right.]

[Footnote 10: Raise forefinger, looking down with severe air.]

[Footnote 11: Affect to lap milk eagerly.]

[Footnote 12: Spring back, raise head, put hand to ear.]

[Footnote 13: Stand stiff and erect, with wide eyes.]

[Footnote 14: Shake clenched fist, scowling.]

[Footnote 15: Scratch and bite at imaginary foe.]

[Footnote 16: Remain with both hands extended in clawing attitude and teeth showing.]

[Footnote 17: Each lay left arm around left hand neighbor’s shoulder, smiling.]

[Footnote 18: Each pats her neighbor lightly, smiling.]

[Footnote 19: Blow upward, as if at a feather.]

[Footnote 20: Pounce down playfully with right hand.]

[Footnote 21: Sit down on footstool, and affect to play with something on floor.]

[Footnote 22: Look up mysteriously and lay finger to lips.]

[Footnote 23: Rise stealthily and look to and fro with keen eyes.]

[Footnote 24: Rush three steps to left and then three steps to right.]

[Footnote 25: Quickly pat the next child as in 18, lay head on shoulder and shut eyes, and scratch forward as in 15.]

[Footnote 26: Raise forefinger, smiling mysteriously; stoop, crouching forward.]

[Footnote 27: Pounce forward and seize imaginary mouse.]

[Footnote 28: Swallow imaginary mouse.]

[Footnote 29: Look up smiling, and resume seat on footstool.]

CATKIN.

I had a little pussy, And her coat was silvery gray; She lives in a great wide meadow, And she never runs away.

She always was a pussy; She never came a cat. Because—she’s a pussy willow! Now, what do you think of that?

THE CATS.

(_With Apologies to Robert Southey._)

Hear the warbling of the cats— Merry cats! Oh, I love to hear the music of their midnight nightly spats! And they waltz around and frisk all, In the icy air of night, In a way so weird and brisk all, While their shapely tails they wisk all With a Cataline delight— Keeping time with their tails, Like a lot of Runic flails, To the concat-cantentation, sung in sundry sharps and flats, Of a canticle on rats, Rats, rats, rats, Rats— To a wild carnivorous canticle on rats!

Hear the turbulent Tom cats, Daddy cats! How the catapultic bootjack interrupts their fiendish chats! In the darkness of the night, How their ghoulish outcries smite Portland flats! From their catacoustic throats An intense Cataphonic ditty floats To the turtle cat that gloats On the fence!— Ah, the tabby cat that listens, while she gloats, To the surging cataclysm of their wild, catarrhal notes!

Hear the hoarse grandfather cats— Aged cats! How they make us long to grasp a score of rattling good brickbats! They have caught a bad catarrh, Caterwauling at the moon! (See it? Caught a bad cat R!) You may hear them from afar, Roll it like a British R, Out of tune. In a clamorous appealing to the aged tabby cat, In a futile, mad appealing to the deaf, old tabby cat! Shrieking higher, higher, higher, Like a demon in a fire— While the little kitten cats— Infant cats— Sing an emulous, sweet ditty of their love for mice and rats? That’s But a rudimental spasm of the capers of the cats!

KITTEN AND THE MOUSE.

Once there was a little kitty, whiter than the snow, In a barn she used to play, long time ago. In a barn a little mousie ran to and fro; For she heard the kitty coming, long time ago.

Two black eyes had little kitty, black as any sloe; And they spied the little mousie, long time ago. Four soft paws had little kitty, paws soft as dough; And they caught the little mousie, long time ago.

Nine pearl teeth had little kitty, all in a row; And they bit the little mousie, long time ago. When the teeth bit little mousie, mousie she cried, “Oh!” But she got away from kitty, long time ago.

HOW PUSSY AND MOUSIE KEPT HOUSE.

A.C. KISH.

One Summer day, not long ago, A pussy and a mouse, Decided that it would be fun— If togeth’r they kept house.

They felt that they could always live In love and harmony— And never say an unkind word Or never disagree.

So they bought a little cottage And fix’d it very fine;— And liv’d there-in for quite a-while, And had a jolly time.

For pussy broiled the beef-steak And bak’d the bread quite light While mousie made the beds so neat And polished the windows bright.

And thus they liv’d, for quite a year, As happy as could be; And nothing happened all that time To mar their love, you see—

Until one day old selfish puss— Drank all the good rich cream; And she only left some skim-milk For mousie,—wasn’t it mean!

When mousie said:—“Oh, pussy dear I think that you are mean To leave me only some skim-milk And drink up all the cream.”

Then pussy’s eyes grew very big, And pussy’s tail went thump, It frightened little mousie so It almost made her jump.

And pussy said: “Now, mousie, mind Our mistress here to-day, And if you say another word, I’ll eat you right away.”

ELDER JOHNSON’S LECTURE ON CATS.

The subject of this lecture is Cats, a domestic animal what is in common use. Cats is a animal as resembles poor people, as they scratches for a living, and never has enough. Cats is lazy, wherein they resemble the rich. Women am fond of cats—p’raps because both uses their claws in asserting their rites—cats on Toms and rats and mice, and little birds, and women on their husbands—which accounts for the great number of divorces. Cats likes milk, but not water, hence the aversion that milkmen have to ’em. Cats is like dandies, as they have great whiskers and white teeth, and is fond of gallivanting about, especially Thomas Cats. There are always a war between cats and rats. Cats has lofty naturs, as they gets on the house-tops, and ascends to the utmost branches of the tallest trees. Robinson Crusoe had a cat, and so had Mahomet. Cats is anti-Malthusians, and increases in geometrical progression, or more. The productions of cats is kittens and electric sparks. This is all there is about cats, except caterwaulin’, which they shares with human bein’s.

A SUNDAY EPISODE

BY HERBERT RANDALL

[Illustration]

A goose, a frog, a cat, a dog All went to church one day; The goose went on ahead, the rest All followed on this way

[Illustration]

When they got there they heard the choir, And all began to sing, The goose, the frog, the cat, the dog, ’Twas such a funny thing!

[Illustration]

The goose went, “Honk-a-wonk-e-konk!” I can’t tell how just now, The frog went “Peep,” the cat went “Mew,” The dog went “Bow-wow-wow!”

The people wouldn’t have them there, They turned them out, and then The goose, the frog, the cat, the dog Went walking home again.

[Illustration]

LITTLE KITTENS.

Three little kittens in coats so grey, Went out with the old mother cat one day.

Said the first little kitten, “If we only might see A monstrous great rat, what fun it would be!”

Said the next little kitten, “I’d seize hold of his head, And bite him, and squeeze him, until he was dead.”

Said the third little kitten, “Should I see a rat, I’d eat him all up in much less time than that.”

Suddenly something jumped out of the wood— All three turned and ran as fast as they could,

And never once stopped till they came to their house. Yet it wasn’t a rat, but a wee baby mouse.

It was then caught and eaten by old mother cat; Said the three little kittens, “Now, just think of that!”

TWO GRAY KITS AND THE GRAY KITS’ MOTHER.

Two gray kits And the gray kits’ mother, All went over The bridge together. The bridge broke down, They all fell in. “May the rats go with you,” Says Tom Bolin.

SANDY JENKINS’S REMARKS ON THE BLACK CAT.

J.D. CORROTHERS.

[From “The Black Cat Club,” by special permission.]

The cat—an’ pertickler de Black Cat—have bin a pow’ful an’ ’spectable genamun sense Time fust begun to wheel his eternal flight ob circumlocution th’u’ endless ages ob nitric acid, quinessence ob floatin’ protoplasm, an’ parliamentary usage!

Long befo’ de earf wah made, de Black Cat had gradjiated f’om a singin’ school in Mahs, an’ had created de planet ob Juan Fernandez an’ de islan’ ob Mesopotamia!

De cat am a practical pusson. He am no spring chicken. He am gen’ly cal’cated to hab nine libes, but dis de cunjah man ’roun’ de co’nah assures me am a sad mistake. He hab nine hundred and ninety-nine libes, libs as long as he want to evah time, an’, lak de good Christ’an, is “bo’n ag’in” almose any ole time. Dat’s why de Theosophists sings dey sacred solo, “De Cat Come Back.”

When de earf wah made without fo’m er void, de Black Cat wah dah watchin’ de whole business, an’ a-layin’ his wires foh to sen’ Grobah Clebelan’ to de United States senate an’ Dick Crokah to de happy lan’ o’ Canaan! Fust thing he done wuz to cross our fo’ parents’ luck in de beautiful Gahden ob Eden, an’ sen’ po’ Adam out to play football wid de rattlesnakes an’ In’juns in de lonely Province ob Wes’ Virginny.

De Black Cat am prone to ebil, as de spahks fly up’ards. He am a lubber ob de back fence, de telegraph pole, an’ de midnight serenade. Bootjacks, pistols, policemen’s clubs, an’ missiles kin not stop his rapturous ditty to de pale-face moon. He am a genamun! He am de mahvel ob de nations!

You mout ax me whut de Black Cat hab done foh sufferin’ humanity. I answer: He am de inventer ob de watermillun, co’n pone, sweeten ’taters, liquor, an’ ’possum; an’ wuz de fust man to teach de cullud race de advisability ob eatin’ po’k chops when you’s flush an’ libber when you’s hahd up.

Oh, de Laud will provide! Dat’s why he gib us our ole black cat Mesmerizer here to bring us good luck whahevah we goes in de United Snakes of Americy, while some ob our good ole mothers is a-ben’in’ ovah de wash-tub, ’way down yondah in Dixie-lan’, sheddin’ briny tears an’ a-sighin’—“Whah’s ma won’rin’ boy to-night?”

’N’ while she’s wo’kin’ ’n’ frettin’, hah trifflin’ son’s down on de co-nah, sunnin’ hisse’f an shootin’ dice, an’ a-singin’:

“Bells am a-ringin’ in Memphis— Bells am a-ringin’ in Cairo— De sun’s done sunk, an’ de alligatah’s Dreamin’ in de deep bayou; De ole folks done gone to chu’ch, De little folks done gone to sleep— ’Way down on de ole homestead. I ’speck dey’s grebin’ ’bout me; But dey’s got to do widout me, Tho’ I wuz de sweetes’ blossom In de ole homestead.”

De Black Cat hab allus bin somebody. Look, whut a pull he had wid ole Isis, one o’ de riches’ men in Egypt, thousands o’ years ago: Cat come along one day, he did, an’ crossed Mr. Isis’ luck, an’ dat fellah didn’t do a thing but beg de cat’s pawdon, an’ build a sacred temple to him. Dat’s all he done to _him_! An’ don’ you think he kin take keer o’ _us_?—his needy an’ faithful chillun? All we’s got to do is to wo’k our rabbit’s foot, an’ say nothin’, an’ thaings’ll come our way.

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?

“Pussy-Cat, Pussy-Cat, Where have you been?” “I’ve been to London To look at the Queen.” “Pussy-Cat, Pussy-Cat, What did you there?” “I frightened a little mouse Under the chair.”

KITTENS’ PROMENADE.

Whitefoot, Malta and Pussy-cat Gray Went to walk together one summer day.

Never before had they passed the gate, And they walked with pride, with tails up straight.

“It’s very charming,” Miss Whitefoot sighed, “Who would have thought the world so wide?”

A toad and a grasshopper sat in the way— “What giants we are!” said Pussy Gray.

“Mother told of danger outside the gate— There’s nothing to harm us,” said Malta sedate.

Pussy Gray said, “You see, I suppose, How very foolish of late she grows.”

Just then a dog jumped over the wall— And spit and a cloud of dust were all

That was left. The kittens brave and sedate Had vanished through the open gate.

ROBIN REDBREAST AND PUSSY-CAT.

Little Robin Redbreast sat upon a tree, Up went Pussy-Cat, and down went he; Down went Pussy-Cat, and away Robin ran; Says little Robin Redbreast, “Catch me if you can.”

Little Robin Redbreast jumped upon a wall, Pussy-Cat jumped after him, and almost got a fall; Little Robin chirped and sang, and what did Pussy say? Pussy-Cat said, “Mew,” and Robin flew away.

PARTNERSHIP.

MARGARET VANDEGRIFT.

[_Little girl addresses the mother of her pet kitten._]

You need not be looking around at me so; She’s my kitten as much as your kitten, you know, And I’ll take her wherever I wish her to go.

You know very well that the day she was found, If I hadn’t cried she’d surely been drowned, And you ought to be thankful she’s here safe and sound.

She’s only just crying because she’s a goose; I’m not squeezing her—look now—my hands are quite loose, You may as well hush, for it’s not any use.

And you may as well get right down and go ’way, You’re not in the thing we are going to play, And remember it isn’t your half the day.

You’re forgetting the bargain we made, and so soon; In the morning she’s mine, and yours all afternoon, And you couldn’t teach her to eat with a spoon.

So don’t let me hear you give one single mew, For you know what will happen right off if you do, She’ll be my kitten mornings and afternoons, too.

THE PACE THAT KILLS.

Counted on a tortoise’s back, Pussy Feathertail Cries, “Next time I take a ride I will try a snail.”

PUSS IN MISCHIEF.

_Action Poem._

[1]Where are you, kitty? [2]Where are you?—say. I’ve scarcely seen you At all to-day.

[3]You’re not in mischief, I hope, my dear; Ah, now I have found you! How came you here?

[4]That’s mother’s knitting, [5]You naughty kit! Oh! such a tangle You’ve made of it!

[6]’Twas _that_ which kept you So very still; [7]Mamma will scold you, I know she will.

[8]So, puss, come to me, You rub your fur Against my fingers, And say “purr, purr.”

[9]I know you mean To say, “Don’t scold,” So close in my arms My puss I’ll hold.

[10]And now, I’ll tell you, My little pet, That mother’s knitting You must not get.

[11]The wool will never Be wound, I fear; [12]But mother’ll forgive My kitty dear.

DIRECTIONS.

[Footnote 1: Enters, looks all around, and recites first line.]

[Footnote 2: Recites second line little more emphatically.]

[Footnote 3: Walks to stage L, and looks, while she recites in anxious tone; suddenly face brightens.]

[Footnote 4: Discovers that kitten is playing with her mother’s knitting, and in surprised voice speaks.]

[Footnote 5: Shakes finger at kitten, picks up knitting and examines it.]

[Footnote 6: Turns and looks at kitten, who seems to be at her side.]

[Footnote 7: Somewhat anxiously. Sits down and looks at kitten.]

[Footnote 8: Kitten climbs into lap and apparently rubs against her fingers. Girl looks down as if to scold.]

[Footnote 9: Looks into kitten’s eyes; hugs kitten close.]

[Footnote 10: Shakes finger warningly at kitten, which she holds up before her. Shows kitten knitting; puts knitting down.]

[Footnote 11: Looks sorrowfully at the hopelessly tangled wool.]

[Footnote 12: Turns suddenly to kitten, as if the dearness of her kitten will cause mother to forgive her; finishes hugging the kitten.]

DAME TROT AND HER CAT.

Dame Trot and her cat Led a peaceable life When they were not troubled With other folks’ strife. When Dame had her dinner Near Pussy would wait, And was sure to receive A nice piece from her plate.

THAT CAT.

BEN KING.

The cat that comes to my window-sill When the moon looks cold and the night is still— He comes in a frenzied state alone With a tail that stands like a pine tree cone, And says: “I have finished my evening lark, And I think I can hear a hound dog bark. My whiskers are froze ’nd stuck to my chin, I do wish you’d get up and let me in.” That cat gets in.

But if in the solitude of the night He doesn’t appear to be feeling right, And rises and stretches and seeks the floor, And some remote corner he would explore, And doesn’t feel satisfied just because There’s no good spot for to sharpen his claws, And meows and canters uneasy about Beyond the least shadow of any doubt That cat gets out.

OLD NURSERY RHYME.

Poor pussy-cat mew Jumped over a coal And burnt a great hole In her best petticoat. Poor pussy-cat mew Can’t have any milk, ’Till her best petticoat’s Mended with silk.

FALSE KINDNESS.

The softest little fluff of fur! The gentlest, most persuasive purr! Oh, everybody told me that She was the “loveliest little cat!” So when she on the table sprung, And lapped the cream with small red tongue, I only gently put her down, And said, “No, no!” and tried to frown; But if I had been truly kind, I should have made that kitten mind!

Now, large and quick, and strong of will, She’ll spring upon that table still, And, spite of all my watchful care, Will snatch the choicest dainties there; And everybody says, “Scat, scat! She’s such a dreadful, dreadful, cat!” But I, who hear them, know, with shame, I only am the one to blame. For in the days when she was young, And lapped the cream with small red tongue, Had I to her been truly kind, I should have made that kitten mind.

TURN ABOUT.

AUNT MARY: Nora, you’re a cruel child. Let that cat go at once.

NORA [_banging cat_]: But she’s been naughty, Aunty, an’ I’m punishin’ her. I told her it was for her own good, an’ it hurt me more’n it hurt her.

THE SECRET TOLD PUSSIE.

_Romantic Pathetic Monologue for a Young Lady._

All gone to the opera, Pussy, but me; We are alone in this rambling old house. Afraid? Not I! Come, sit on my knee, And tell me your stories of dog and mouse. Do you hear the wind—how it sobs and grieves? And the rain falling down on the moss-grown eaves?

Let us turn off the gas and sit on the rug; How the firelight brightens the long old room, With its scarlet fancies! Puss, are you snug? You know in one’s youth one should never know gloom. That is what mamma told me to-day When I sighed, and forgot one should always be gay.

Do you see any pictures in the fire, Pussy, my dear, with your solemn eyes? Pictures of river and castle and spire— Or only of milk and a mouse’s surprise? I see, ah, Pussy, eyes of brown, And a brow that is royal enough for a crown.

I see a smile that is sweet and rare, A hand that is gentle and strong and true; I see a summer-tide swift and fair, With golden sunshine and skies of blue. Oh, what shall I do with the long, long years? Pussy, forgive me, you don’t like tears.

The firelight flickers on picture and wall, On book-case and bracket, and statue white— Pussy, do you remember a ball That happened a year ago to-night? One little year! How the seasons bring Changes that only blight and sting!

“Sorrow is sorrow to the old But death to the young,” ah, Pussy, I’ve read; Perhaps, if these curls were gray and not gold I wouldn’t wish to-night I were dead. Not twenty yet—and all joy o’er, Oh, Pussy, Pussy, for evermore!