III
Yet Jocko’s life was not a life of ease,— We think to do entirely as we please, Age teaches otherwise. One evil day A cat approached the cushion where he lay And tore away his inoffensive hair And left him with his leathern skin laid bare, Silent upon the rug. His Betsey-Jane Found him with tears and kissed him well again; But she herself, forgetful of her grief, Laughed when they dressed him in a handkerchief Just like a doll, but Jocko did not mind, He still forgave her for his heart was kind.