Crow was right in that poetry of
his, after all.'
"Then Mr. Man went up to the house, and since then Mr. Thomas has been
allowed to stay round the farm, just as he pleases."
MR. CROW'S FANCY.
"What did he mean by saying Mr. Crow was right?"
"Oh, that was on account of a piece of poetry he wrote about me. There
isn't much of it, and perhaps you had just as soon I would repeat it."
Then, without waiting for permission, Mrs. Mouser recited the following:
Some people love the gay giraffe
Because his antics make them laugh
(I've never found him witty),
Others prefer the cockatoo--
He does things I should hate to do;
He's vulgar--more's the pity!
An ostrich draws admiring throngs
Whenever he sings his comic songs,
And, really, it's no wonder!
The dormouse has been highly rated
(and justly) for his celebrated
Mimicking of thunder.
I know some friends who'd journey miles
To see a bat's face wreathed in smiles,
They say it's grandly funny!
To see a buzzard drink port wine
Another eager friend of mine
Would pay no end of money.
But that which most appeals to me--
I know my taste may curious be--
Is--not a mouse in mittens.
It is to see a homely cat,
Dressed up in an old battered hat,
A-walking with her kittens!
[Illustration: Mrs. Tabby and Her Kittens.]
"One would think from the verses, that you and Mr. Crow were very good
friends," your Aunt Amy suggested, and Mrs.
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