CAT’S-MEAT MAN; OR, CUPBOARD LOVE.

PERSIAN, Tom, and Tabby, Every kind of cat; Lank and long and shabby, Short and sleek and fat; Fresh from night of slumming, Down my street they ran, Waiting for the coming Of the Cat’s-meat man. Rogues of humble station, Lathy ones and lean, Eager expectation In their eyes of green; Swells, who set the fashions, Purred of clique and clan, Waiting for their rations From the Cat’s-meat man. Startled by their cater- Wauling, just outside, Where the bridge of Batter- Sea surmounts the tide, At my window, seated, Gazing on its span, Prayerfully I greeted Chelsea’s Cat’s-meat man. Leader of the legions, Stalked a stalwart brute, Target, in these regions, Of the hostile boot; Mourning for that lost Ro- Mance I once began, Thusly I apostro- Phized the Cat’s-meat man: “Hamelin’s famous piper Pacing Weser’s flats, Was not half so hyper- Critical of rats; Heedless he of sample, None escaped his ban; What a good example For a Cat’s-meat man! “Worse than bandsman Teuton Is that Fiend, who riles With his weird love suit, on Chelsea’s echoing tiles; Heed my ruined rapture, Verse that wouldn’t scan; Compass me his capture, Oh, my Cat’s-meat man. “Friend, would you deliver One who’d fain indite Rhymelets to the river In the shrieking night, Plunge that feline vagrant, On the piper’s plan, In those waters fragrant, Gentle Cat’s-meat man. “Gratefully I’ll bless you O’er the midnight oil, Rhymefully address you When you’ve eased my toil. Nay, when that Tom-cat you Drown, as well you can, I’ll erect a statue To you, Cat’s-meat man!” Chelsea’s meat purveyor Never said a word; Knew not what to say, or Haply, never heard. Still in feline phrases Thomas leads the van, Hymning midnight praises To the Cat’s-meat man.