TWO PUSSY-CATS.

DAINTY little ball of fur, sleek and round and fat, Yawning through the lazy hours, some one’s household cat, Lying on a bed of down, decked in ribbons gay, What a pleasant life you lead, whether night or day. Dining like an epicure, from a costly dish, Served with what you like the best, chicken, meat or fish, Purring at an outstretched hand, knowing but caresses, Half the comforts of your life, pussy, no one guesses. Romping through the house at will, racing down the hall, Full of pretty, playful pranks, loved and praised by all, Wandering from room to room to find the choicest spot, Favored little household puss, happy is your lot. Sleeping on my lady’s lap, or dozing by the grate, Fed with catnip tea if ill, what a lucky fate! Loved in life and mourned in death, and stuffed maybe at that, And kept up on the mantel-shelf—dear pet cat.

Poor little beggar cat, hollow-eyed and gaunt, Creeping down the alley-way like a ghost of want, Kicked and beat by thoughtless boys, bent on cruel play, What a sorry life you lead, whether night or day. Hunting after crusts and crumbs, gnawing meatless bones, Trembling at a human step, fearing bricks and stones, Shrinking at an outstretched hand, knowing only blows, Wretched little beggar cat, born to suffer woes. Stealing to an open door, craving food and heat, Frightened off with angry cries and broomed into the street, Tortured, teased and chased by dogs, through the lonely night, Homeless little beggar cat, sorrow is your plight. Sleeping anywhere you can, in the rain and snow, Waking in the cold, gray dawn, wondering where to go, Dying in the street at last, starved to death at that, Picked up by the scavenger—poor tramp cat.