Do You Like My Cat?

I like my cat, I like him well,
As all the house may see
I like him for himself, and not
Because the cat likes me.

He counts his only work in life,
To flourish and be fat;
And this he does with all his might;—
Of course, I like my cat.

His eyes shine out beneath his brows,
As eyes have rarely shone;
His beauty is the grandest thing
That ever cat put on.

He wears a paw of wondrous bulk,
With secret claws to match,
And puts a charm in all its play,
The pat, the box, the scratch.

I have not heard how cats are made
Within their furry veil,
But rather fancy Tippo’s thoughts
Lie chiefly in his tail.

For while in every other part
His portly person sleeps,
That bushy tail, with steady wave,
A ceaseless vigil keeps.

A Dear Little Granny

I want to be your granny—
Granny, granny dear;
Do you think in glasses
I’m anything like near?

Would you take me for her
If I wore her cap;
Told you pretty stories,
Took you in my lap?

Gave you lots of sweeties,
Cakes and apples too?
That’s the way that grannies,
Dear old grannies do!

Good-Night and Good-Morning

A fair little girl sat careless and free,
Sewing as long as her eyes could see;
Then smoothed her work, and folded it right,
And said “Dear Work! good-night! good-night!”

Such a number of rooks came over her head,
Crying “Caw! Caw!” on their way to bed.
She said, as she watched their curious flight,
“Little black things! good-night! good-night!”

The horses neighed, and the oxen lowed;
The sheeps “Bleat! bleat!” came over the road—
All seeming to say with a quiet delight,
“Good little girl! good-night! good-night!”

The tall pink foxglove bowed his head—
The violets curtsied and went to bed;
And good little Lucy tied up her hair,
And said on her knees her favorite prayer.

And while on her pillow she softly lay,
She knew nothing more till again it was day;
And all things said to the beautiful sun,
“Good-morning! good-morning! our work is begun.”

The Spelling Lesson

Now, Pussy, you must be real good,
And learn to spell like me;
When I say, “Pussy, what is this?”
You must say, That is C.

Don’t scratch, and twist, and turn about,
And try to get away;
But, Pussy, please to try and learn:
This is the letter A.

There now, that’s nice, you’re doing well;
Oh, dear! where can she be;
Just as I’d taught her how to spell
Clear to the letter T.

She jumped and ran away so fast,
She must have seen a rat;
And now how will she ever know
That C-A-T spells Cat.