Would be quite ashamed of so idle a life!"
And the lark looked as scornful as a lark knows
how,
As he swung up and down on a slender bough.
A cat had been eying him there for a while,
And sprang at him now from top of a stile.
But she missed her aim—he was quite too high;
And oh, how he laughed as he soared in the sky!
Then the cat scrambled up, disappointed and cross;
She looked all about her, and felt at a loss