University of Virginia Library

Kitten, Kitten, two months old,
Woolly snow-ball, lying snug,
Curl'd up in the warmest fold
Of the warm hearth-rug,
Turn your drowsy head this way.
What is life? Oh, Kitten, say!

“Life!” said the Kitten, winking her eyes,
And twitching her tail, in a droll surprise—
“Life?—Oh, it's racing over the floor,
Out at the window and in at the door;
Now on the chair-back, now on the table,
'Mid balls of cotton and skeins of silk,
And crumbs of sugar and jugs of milk,
All so cosy and comfortable.
It's patting the little dog's ears, and leaping
Round him and over him while he's sleeping,—
Waking him up in a sore affright,
Then off and away, like a flash of light,
Scouring and scampering out of sight.
Life? Oh! it's rolling over and over
On the summer-green turf and budding clover,
Chasing the shadows, as fast they run,
Down the garden paths, in the mid-day sun,
Prancing and gambolling, brave and bold,
Climbing the tree-stems, scratching the mould—
That's Life!” said the Kitten two months old.

Kitten, Kitten, come sit on my knee,
And lithe and listen, Kitten to me!
One by one, oh! one by one,
The sly, swift shadows sweep over the sun—
Daylight dieth, and—kittenhood's done.
And, Kitten, oh! the rain and the wind!
For cathood cometh, with careful mind,
And grave cat-duties follow behind.
Hark! there's a sound you cannot hear;
I'll whisper its meaning in your ear:
Mice!
(The Kitten stared with her great green eyes,
And twitch'd her tail in a queer surprise,—)
Mice!
No more tit-bits, dainty and nice;
No more mischief and no more play;
But watching by night, and sleeping by day,
Prowling wherever the foe doth lurk—
Very short commons and very sharp work.
And, Kitten, oh! the hail and the thunder!
That's a blackish cloud, but a blacker's under.
Hark! but you'll fall from my knee, I fear,
When I whisper that awful word in your ear—
R-r-r-rats!
(The Kitten's heart beat with great pit-pats,
But her whiskers quiver'd, and from their sheath
Flashed out the sharp, white, pearly teeth.)
R-r-r-rats!
The scorn of dogs, but the terror of cats;
The cruellest foes and the fiercest fighters;
The sauciest thieves and the sharpest biters.
But, Kitten, I see you've a stoutish heart,
So, courage! and play an honest part;
Use well your paws,
And strengthen your claws,
And sharpen your teeth and stretch your jaws—
Then woe to the tribe of pickers and stealers,
Nibblers and gnawers and evil dealers!
But now that you know life's not precisely
The thing your fancy pictured so nicely,
Off and away! race over the floor,
Out at the window and in at the door;
Roll on the turf and bask in the sun,
Ere night-time cometh, and kittenhood's done.