CATCHING THE CAT.

THE mice had been in council; They all looked haggard and worn, For the state of things was too terrible To be any longer borne. Not a family out of mourning— There was crape on every hat. They were desperate; something must be done, And done at once, to the cat. An elderly member rose and said, “It might prove a possible thing To set the trap which they set for us— That one with the awful spring!” The suggestion was applauded Loudly, by one and all, Till somebody squeaked, “That trap would be About ninety-five times too small!” Then a medical mouse suggested— A little under his breath— They should confiscate the very first mouse That died a natural death; And he’d undertake to poison the cat, If they’d let him prepare that mouse. “There’s not been a natural death,” they shrieked, “Since the cat came into the house!” The smallest mouse in the council Arose with a solemn air, And, by way of increasing his stature, Rubbed up his whiskers and hair. He waited until there was silence All along the pantry shelf, And then he said with dignity, “I will catch the cat myself! “When next I hear her coming, Instead of running away, I shall turn and face her boldly, And pretend to be at play: She will not see her danger, Poor creature! I suppose; But as she stoops to catch me, I shall catch her by the nose!” The mice began to look hopeful, Yes, even the old ones, when A gray-haired sage said slowly, “And what will you do with her then?” The champion, disconcerted, Replied with dignity, “Well, I think, if you’ll all excuse me, ’Twould be wiser not to tell. “We all have our inspirations—” This produced a general smirk, “But we are not all at liberty To explain just how they’ll work. I ask you, then, to trust me: You need have no further fears— Consider our enemy done for!” The council gave three cheers. “I do believe she’s coming!” Said a small mouse, nervously. “Run, if you like,” said the champion, “But I shall wait and see!” And sure enough, she was coming; The mice all scampered away Except the noble champion, Who had made up his mind to stay. The mice had faith—of course, they had— They were all of them noble souls, But a sort of general feeling Kept them safely in their holes Until some time in the evening; Then the boldest ventured out, And saw, happily in the distance, The cat prance gayly about! There was dreadful consternation, Till someone at last said, “Oh, He’s not had time to do it— Let us not prejudge him so!” “I believe in him, of course, I do,” Said the nervous mouse, with a sigh, “But the cat looks uncommonly happy, And I wish I did know why!” The cat, I regret to mention, Still prances about that house, And no message, letter, or telegram Has come from the champion mouse. The mice are a little discouraged; The demand for crape goes on; They feel they’d be happier if they knew Where the champion mouse had gone. This story has a moral— It is very short, you see, So no one, of course, will skip it, For fear of offending me. It is well to be courageous, And valiant, and all that, But—if you are mice—you’d better think twice Before you catch the cat.