OUT FOR A HIGH TIME.

THREE gay little kittens, named Black, White and Gray, From their own cozy corner once wandered away. And old Mother Catkins, asleep on her chair, Ne’er dreamed that her babies were off “on a tear.” The kitty-cats frolicked, and gambolled, and ran, And cut up such capers as only cats can; And when they encountered a very high wall, Up scrambled and clambered the little cats all. “We’re out for a high time,” the kitty-cats said; And they danced a few quicksteps; turned heels overhead. Then Whitey and Graycoat struck up a sweet tune, While Black sat sedately and mewed at the moon. But brief was their pleasure. They soon heard a yell Of “Scat there, you cats there!” while shoes and things fell. Down scrambled and tumbled the poor little kits, And scampered off homeward, scared out of their wits. With joy, their warm corner the runaways spied; And when they were nestled by old Catkin’s side, The kittens purred softly, “No more will we roam, For all the world over, there’s no place like home.”