Then Mrs. Mouser Cat repeated the following:
Kitty cat, kitty cat, asleep on the rug,
With velvet paws beneath your head nice and snug,
What are you dreaming of? What do you think
When out slips your little tongue so soft and pink?
When you flick your ears, and your whiskers quiver so,
And you give an eager cry like a whisper low;
When your tail pats the rug so intent, and you seem
Just ready for a spring, tell me what do you dream?
"Oh, I have a fairy-land I visit in my sleep,
Where the mice don't expect me and are playing bo-peep;
Down I pounce upon them, they are not so quick as I,
And I smile as I regale myself upon a mouse pie;
"There are pantries where the pans of milk are brimming o'er,
Where I lap the rich cream and spill no drop upon the floor;
Loveliest custards, daintiest bits of fragrant cheese;
And I help myself without a word as often as I please.
"Then I walk along the fences and I grandly wave my tail;
My whiskers are so fierce all the other cats turn pale;
When Pug and Towser eye me, suspiciously, I know,
I give a spring upon them and off in fright they go.
"And in my pretty fairy-land no cruel boys appear;
Only black eats and white cats, and purrs and mews to hear.
And these are what my visions are, oh little mistress sweet;
Sure any cat would need to smile asleep here at your feet."
"Now I really think that is good, Mrs. Mouser," and your Aunt Amy spoke no more than the truth. "I don't seriously object to Mr. Crow's nonsense verses; but at the same time I never really enjoy them."