Four little mice lived all alone
Where cats had been so long unknown;
They ate and slept without a fear
That any danger could be near.
One sunny day with brush and broom
They cleaned their pantry, swept their room,
Then made themselves as neat and fine
As if invited out to dine.
And then not knowing what to do,
They looked their cedar closet through
And found their gray coats growing thin:
So sat them down some yarn to spin,
Soon, through a chink to their surprise,
A cat looked in with hungry eyes—
“Shall I come in and cut your thread?”
“Oh, thank you, no!” they trembling said.
FINNETTE.
“Bow-wow-wow!” was the first thing Winny heard that morning. She opened her eyes and there stood Finnette. Aunt Bertha had brought her as a birthday gift for Winny from Paris.
Finnette was full of pretty tricks. She could stand on her hind legs and dance. She could sing.
“Now, Finnette,” Winny’s mamma would say, “I will play and you shall sing.”
WINNY.