"I AM THE FAMILY CAT."

I can fold up my claws
In my soft velvet paws
And purr in the sun
'Till the short day is done;
  For I am the family cat.

I can doze by the hour
In the vine-covered bower,
winking and blinking
Through sunshine and shower;
  For I am the family cat.

In the cold winter night,
When the ground is all white,
And the icicles shine
In a long silver line,
I stay not to shiver
In the moonbeams' pale quiver,
But curl up in the house
As snug as a mouse,
And play Jacky Horner
In the cosiest corner,
Breaking nobody's laws,
With my chin in my paws,
Asleep with one eye and awake
     with the other;
  For I am the family cat.

-

Johnnie saw his cat coming out of a liquor-saloon
one day and gave it a whipping.  His mother heard
the cat's cries and asked what was the matter.
Johnnie answered that Kittie had been disgracing
the family.

-

PUSSY'S COMPLAINT.

I'm just as unhappy, unhappy
  As ever a kitten can be;
If you let me, I'll tell you about it,
  Then perhaps you will pity me.
For it's a great mistake in your thinking
  That kits have no feeling at all,
Nor a thought beyond having a frolic,
  Or the chasing after a ball.

Now, how could I know (please tell me
  If you could help me see)
That the cold roast fowl in the pantry
  Was not put there for me?
They left the door temptingly open,
  So I helped myself to that;
But they drove me out with a broomstick,
  And called me "that mean, thieving cat!"

Then those pans of milk in the dairy,
  With cream like the yellowest gold,
I thought I should like to taste it,
  For it's very delicious, I'm told;
So I climbed to one of the nicest,
  And was just getting ready to taste,
When they found me -- and such a commotion!
  I ran to the barn in hot haste.

Don't they think cats ever get hungry
  Between meals, I'd like to know?
And rats and mice cannot always be found?
  I have sat for an hour or so
Beside some nice-looking rat-hole,
  And not even a mouse came to view;
And I found, after waiting and waiting,
  They had moved off to lodgings anew.

-

A CAT'S HISTORY.

Many things besides money are paid for strong drink,
but did you ever hear of a cat being sold for a glass
of liquor?  There was such a sale once of a cat that
lived with Miss Brown who was lame and lived all
alone by herself, with no one for company but her cat,
who she called Martin Luther; and if he was not a
reformer he had surely been a great comforter to his
lonely mistress.  He had a special corner of the room
for his use, which was a patchwork-covered hassock
where he could sit and blink to his heart's content.
Teddy Fritter, a boy who lived in the same house, had
many a fine romp and frolic with Martin Luther.

"Miss Brown, where did you get him?" asked Teddy one
day as he petted the cat.

"I bought him in a liquor-shop," she replied.  "A man
paid ten cents for him.  There was going to be a
turkey-shoot, and the man who bought him was going to
put up Martin to be shot at just for fun."

"Why didn't the man who owned him give money for his
liquor instead of giving a cat?"

"Because he was so poor he hadn't any money.  He
didn't own even a cat.  Martin belonged to his little
girl, and she felt dreadfully when her father carried
him off.  But when she found I had him she was glad,
and used to come to see him almost every day until I
moved away."

"I think you mad a good purchase," said Teddy, "and
you ought to have a medal from the Society for the
Prevention of Cruelty to Animals."