Now, many cats came out to see,
And some were filled with awe at him;
While some, alack,
Behind his back
Did laugh and point a paw at him.
Mice, milk, and catnip did he scorn;
He went to business less and less—
And everywhere
He wore an air
Of arrogance and haughtiness.
HIS CLERKS
His clerks ate catnip all day long—
They spent much time in idle play;
They left the mice
From off the ice—
They trusted cats who could not pay.
While happy in his tin-shop crown
Each day the king went marching out,
Elate because
He thought he was
The kind of king you read about.
A SOLEMN LOOK WAS IN HIS FACE
But lo, one day, he strolled too far,
And in a dim and dismal place
A cat he met,
Quite small, and yet
A solemn look was in his face.
One fiery eye this feline wore—
A waif he was of low degrees—
No gaudy dress
Did he possess,
Nor yet a handsome cat was he.
But lo, he smote that spurious king
And stripped him of his tinsel crown,
Then like the wind
Full close behind
He chased His Highness into town.
With cheers his subjects saw him come.
He did not pause—he did not stop,
But straight ahead
He wildly fled
Till he was safe within his shop.
He caught his breath and gazed about—
A sorry sight did he behold:
No catnip there
Or watchful care—
No mice and milk and joy of old.