 | Tales in Verse for Young People |  |
II. PART II.
“New men, new measures,” as 'tis said;
Now Madam Fortescue is dead,
And the poor Cat, as we shall shew,
In little time doth suffer woe.
Now Madam Fortescue is dead,
And the poor Cat, as we shall shew,
In little time doth suffer woe.
Now comes the second picture;
And here we shall discover,
That the poor pussy now
No longer lives in clover.
And here we shall discover,
That the poor pussy now
No longer lives in clover.
For she gets no sups of cream—
Not even a crumb of bread:
Cross Mrs Crabthorn rules the house,
Now Madam Fortescue is dead.
Not even a crumb of bread:
Cross Mrs Crabthorn rules the house,
Now Madam Fortescue is dead.
15
And the fine crimson cushion
Into the lumber-room is thrown—
Only look at that poor cat,
She would melt a heart of stone.
Into the lumber-room is thrown—
Only look at that poor cat,
She would melt a heart of stone.
She may well look so forlorn—
Poor creature! that she may;
And only think what kicks she's had,
And nothing to eat all day!
Poor creature! that she may;
And only think what kicks she's had,
And nothing to eat all day!
This, then, is the dressing-room,
Grand and stately as you see;
Yet everything in the room
Looks as solemn as can be!
Grand and stately as you see;
Yet everything in the room
Looks as solemn as can be!
The very peacock's feathers
Over the old glass on the wall,
Look like great mourning plumes
Waving at a funeral.
Over the old glass on the wall,
Look like great mourning plumes
Waving at a funeral.
And that glass in the black frame,
And the footstool on the floor,
And the chair where Madam sat to dress,
But where she'll sit no more!
And the footstool on the floor,
And the chair where Madam sat to dress,
But where she'll sit no more!
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Everything looks as if some
Great sorrow would befall!
See, there's the old tabby gown
Hanging on the wall;
Great sorrow would befall!
See, there's the old tabby gown
Hanging on the wall;
And there's the lace cap—
But there's no lace border on it;
And in that half-open box
Is the dear old lady's bonnet.
But there's no lace border on it;
And in that half-open box
Is the dear old lady's bonnet.
And there lie the black silk mits,
And the funny high-heeled shoes;
And there the pomatum-pot,
And the powder-puffs she used to use.
And the funny high-heeled shoes;
And there the pomatum-pot,
And the powder-puffs she used to use.
But she will never use them more,
Neither to-day nor to-morrow!
She is dead—and gone from this world,
As the cat knows to her sorrow!
Neither to-day nor to-morrow!
She is dead—and gone from this world,
As the cat knows to her sorrow!
But now through that open door,
If you take a peep,
You see the great stately bed
On which she used to sleep.
If you take a peep,
You see the great stately bed
On which she used to sleep.
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And there rests her coffin
On that very stately bed—
For you must clearly understand
That Madam Fortescue is dead!
On that very stately bed—
For you must clearly understand
That Madam Fortescue is dead!
See now, in this dressing-room,
There sits the poor cat;
Could you have thought a few days
Would make a change like that?
There sits the poor cat;
Could you have thought a few days
Would make a change like that?
See, how wobegone she looks—
In what miserable case,
I really think I see the tears
All running down her face!
In what miserable case,
I really think I see the tears
All running down her face!
She has reason enough to cry, poor thing,
She has had a great loss!
She had a mistress the best in the world,
She has one now—so cross!
She has had a great loss!
She had a mistress the best in the world,
She has one now—so cross!
There she sits trembling,
And hanging down her head,
As if she knew misfortune was come,
Now Madam Fortescue is dead!
And hanging down her head,
As if she knew misfortune was come,
Now Madam Fortescue is dead!
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And look, there stands Mrs Crabthorn,
With a rope in her hand,
Giving to that surly fellow
A very strict command.
With a rope in her hand,
Giving to that surly fellow
A very strict command.
For what? To hang the cat!
“For then, Scroggin,” says she,
“I shall still have my fifty pounds a year,
And what's the cat to me!
“For then, Scroggin,” says she,
“I shall still have my fifty pounds a year,
And what's the cat to me!
“To be sure I promised Madam
To love the cat like a relation—
But now she is dead and gone,
Why that's no signification!
To love the cat like a relation—
But now she is dead and gone,
Why that's no signification!
“And cats I never could bear,
And I'll not be plagued with that;
So take this new rope, Scroggin,
And see you hang the cat!
And I'll not be plagued with that;
So take this new rope, Scroggin,
And see you hang the cat!
“Be sure to do it safely—
Hang her with the rope double;
And her skin will make you a cap,
Friend Scroggin, for your trouble!”
Hang her with the rope double;
And her skin will make you a cap,
Friend Scroggin, for your trouble!”
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Poor thing, she hears their words—
Well may she moan and sob;
He is an ill-looking fellow,
And seems to like the job!
Well may she moan and sob;
He is an ill-looking fellow,
And seems to like the job!
He will take the rope with joy,
He's no pity—not he!
And in less than half-an-hour,
She'll be hanging on a tree!
He's no pity—not he!
And in less than half-an-hour,
She'll be hanging on a tree!
| Tales in Verse for Young People | |