TOPSY.

I HAVE the dearest kitten Your eyes did ever see, And oh! such merry times she has, My kitty dear, with me. Her coat is soft and silky, And just as black as ink, That’s why I call her Topsy: A good name, don’t you think? Where did my pussy come from? You cannot guess, I fear. Why, Father Christmas brought her, Now, wasn’t he a dear? Just by my Christmas stocking A little hamper stood, And when I lifted up the lid, My darling kitty mewed. It was as if she said to me, “Please take me out, dear May,” And so I took her in my arms, And quietly she lay. But soon some lovely romps we had, My kitty dear and I, All round the room, upstairs and down, To race me she did try. And when each morning comes again, And I get out of bed, I run to feed my kitty With nice, new milk and bread. But one day, oh, my Topsy! A sad, sad tale I heard, Tom says you scampered up a tree, After a little bird. I’m sure I don’t know how you could, Birds are such pretty things; I hope you did not catch it, puss, I’m glad that it had wings. Perhaps it flew away from you, So I will scold no more, But love my Topsy, every day, Just as I did before.