As if their mother knew not best,
Or would not charge her careful breast
With all their little wants.
Full soon their folly did they rue;
(As foolish children always do;)
But ah! they rued too late:
For Pussy heard their silly wail,
And prick’d her ears, and lash’d her tail,
And grinn’d with scorn and hate.
Then up the tree amain she sprung,