CAT-EGORICAL COURTSHIP.

I SAT one night beside a blue-eyed girl— The fire was out, and so, too, was her mother; A feeble flame around the lamp did curl Making faint shadows, blending in each other. ’Twas nearly twelve o’clock, too, in November. She had a shawl on also, I remember. Well, I had been to see her every night For thirteen days, and had a sneaking notion To pop the question, thinking all was right, And once or twice had made an awkward motion To take her hand, and stammered, coughed, and stuttered, But somehow nothing to the point had uttered. I thought this chance too good now to be lost; I hitched my chair up pretty close beside her, Drew a long breath, and then my legs I crossed, Bent over, sighed, and for five minutes eyed her. She looked as if she knew what next was coming, And with her foot upon the floor was drumming. I didn’t know how to begin or where— I couldn’t speak; the words were always choking, I scarce could move—I seemed tied in my chair— I hardly breathed—’twas awful provoking; The perspiration from each pore was oozing, My heart and brain and limbs their power seemed losing. At length I saw a brindled tabby-cat Walk purring up, inviting me to pat her; An idea came, electric-like at that— My doubts, like summer clouds, began to scatter; I seized on tabby, though a scratch she gave me, And said, “Come, Puss, ask Mary if she’ll have me?” ’Twas done at once—the murder now was out; The thing was all explained in half a minute; She blushed, and, turning pussy round about, Said, “Pussy, tell him, yes!” Her foot was in it! The cat had thus saved me my category. And here’s the catastrophe of my story.