THE PET CAT
Dear Billy is dead, that clever cat,
His troubles now are o'er;
He cannot catch the mice and rats,
As he has done before.
No more he'll sing his fine duet,
With Kitty Spot, mee-ow;
No other cats can sing so well,
I think they don't know how.
It was not for want of milk or meat,
That Billy came to die;
But he was sick like other cats,
That was the reason why.
'Twill do no good to call for him,
He wont come back I know;
For he has gone to pussy land,
Where all good kitties go.
-- You will find this jewel on page 300.
No comments:
Post a Comment