"What a naughty trick was that to drown my granny's pussy cat,
Who never did any harm, but caught the mice in father's barn."
CAT TALE OF DICK WHITTINGTON.
This legend of Dick Whittington is of Eastern origin. The story of the poor boy whose ill-fortune was so strangely reversed by the performances of his cat and its kittens finds a parallel in a cat tale found in "Arlott's Italian Novels," published 1485. The Lord Mayor of London bearing the name of Richard Whittington was a knight's son, a citizen of London, and never poor. The possible explanation of the cat in the career of Whittington of London had reference to a coal-boat known as a "cat," and far more likely to make a fortune for the future Lord Mayor than a good mouser would be.
CHAPTER VI.
A CRADLE SONG OF THE FIRST CENTURY.
Many authorities pronounce this lullaby to be of the earliest Christian era. Some believe that in times of yore the Virgin herself sang it to the infant Jesus.
"Sleep, O son, sleep,
Thy mother sings to her firstborn;
Sleep, O boy, sleep,
Thy father cries out to his little child.
Thousands of praises we sing to thee,
A thousand thousand thousands.
"Sleep, my heart and my throne,
Sleep, thou joy of thy mother;
Let a soothing, hushed lullaby
Come murmuring to thy heavenly ears.
Thousands of praises we sing to thee,
A thousand thousand thousands.