|thanks karenswhimsy.com (PD)|
Here's another from the cache I've been collecting for the planned book on "vile vintage verses."
ONE OF THE ELEVEN.
WILL there be any kitties in Heaven?
Any little round fuzzy balls,
I want one out of every eleven,
To answer to my call.
Out of all the felines on earth
It seems a great big shame.
If out of the big eleven
Mine couldn't answer to his name.
He's caught many a little mouse
But he never caught a rat;
He never ate them up.
For he wasn't that kind of a cat.
My kittie's name is Noble,
And I know he'll stand the test.
And I'll not be lonesome in Heaven,
If he's numbered with the rest.
Citation: Tubbs, I. Putnam. [from old catalog]. (1913). A book of poems. [Waverly, N.Y.: National protective legion.] 35