“We wanted to organize a singing class,” continued Snowball, changing the subject, “but when we called in Katie Goose to talk it over with us, Billy Beaver thrust his nose through the door and said that Miss Hare would never permit us to sing after night. He added that a cat, a dog, a goose, and a number of other creatures, would not make a very tuneful chorus, however fine we might be as soloists.”
“Billy Beaver can’t sing,” said Reynard. “I can see his reason for objecting to a students’ chorus.”
“He is very rude,” said Snowball, severely. “I shall not forget how horrid he made me feel the night that Weenie Mouse was missing. I am sure that he thought I might have eaten him. I was very glad, indeed, when they found Weenie hiding in Miss Hare’s room, nibbling at an ear of corn.”
“Recite the poem about the kitten that went to sleep when her mother had visitors,” begged Tiny. “I am sure that Reynard would like to hear it.”
Without waiting for Reynard to insist, Snowball recited, in his pretty purring manner, the following poem, which is said to amuse kittens even to the present day:
TABBY AND PRUE.
Quoth Dame Tabby Cat to her daughter, Miss Prue,
“I shall teach you a lesson, my dear,
For I am so very much older than you,