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TO THE CAT AT GRANDMAMA’S
A LETTER
- DEAR CAT, I’m writing you this letter,
- Which I shall send by post;
- So, by‐and‐by, perhaps you’d better
- Just say if it was lost.
- I’ve got a nice large sheet of paper,
- And, pussy—what d’you think!—
- Some sealing‐wax, a smart red taper,
- And a real pen and ink!
- Dear Cat, how sadly I did cry
- When Nurse, I, and Papa
- Where all obliged to say good‐bye
- To you and Grandmama.
- I saw you on the steps, and John
- Was standing at your side,
- You watched us till we were quite gone,
- Then, I suppose, you cried!
- Oh! puss, I have been so so sad
- These two last rainy days,
- And I kept thinking how we had
- Such dear, delicious plays,
- You and I, pussy, in the hall,
- Jumping upon the chairs,
- Scrambling for my elastic ball,
- Running half‐way upstairs,
- Until we met grave housemaid Jane
- With dust‐pan and with broom,
- Who always sent us back again
- To the warm drawing‐room;
- And there, before the tea‐bell rang,
- We sat upon one stool,
- Whilst you purred, pussy, and I sang,
- Or else we played at school.
- I taught you that two paws were two,
- And twice two paws were four,
- And tried to make you count your claws, but you
- Would stick them in the floor!
- And so you never got to be
- As wise as you were bid—
- At least I was surprised to see
- One evening what you did—
- John brought the kettle in and stept—
- With a black shining boot—
- Between us, when you, pussy, leapt
- And fastened on his foot.
- You thought it was a rat, but oh!
- When I had told you that
- If John had fifty feet or so,
- They couldn’t make one rat!
- What cream we had for tea that night,
- What games with cotton reels;
- But no, puss, it upsets me quite,
- One can’t help what one feels.
- I’m crying now, so here I’ll end,
- Dear Cat—best love to you—
- Believe me, your own little friend,
- EMILY FORTESCUE.
E.K.
