SIXTH CATERWAUL
What a terrible contrast: from an interrupted
Yachting trip to the garbage can! The smell
Of the sea is sweeter but I wasn’t dressed
For it.... The lure of a square meal is sweeter
Than the glitter of paste.
Think of finding a
Half beefsteak on top of the can! There was no
Gravy but it was cooked to perfection. I ate it
With relish, but should have enjoyed it better
If only some one would let me work for it—
Especially such a meal.... And yet they say beggars
Cannot be choosers.... I found a lot more in the can
To eat, but the steak satisfied me.
I was very tired; so I went to sleep beside the
Can....
When the collector came he took counsel of
My presence and hunted through to see what he could
Find of value. He looked up and down the street
And then slipped a half-roasted-chicken into his
Blouse; but not before casting me a look of
Triumph.... But I never can eat two meals at a
Sitting and chicken doesn’t agree with me. Then,
Too, even honey is nourishing, but it may give
One indigestion.... I hope he enjoyed the chicken
As much as I did my banquet....
Why, thought I, not
Offer to stay in this house where plenty runs
To overflowing....
It proved to be Brough’s!
SEVENTH CATERWAUL
I prefer the street and the gutter
To the hospitality Brough’s might have offered.
How lucky to be a cat
Free to accept or—refuse
What is offered!
EIGHTH CATERWAUL
I found a door that was open.
The grass in the entry was cut close;
The hangings and drawing-room furniture
Immaculate in their smug neatness. Even the
Windows were clean and the books on the
Shelves were well dusted. I wandered into
The kitchen where oilcloth was spotless
And tidy. Even the walls were fresh-papered....
No doubt to keep the kalsomine-water
From evaporating....
Table-manners in such
A house, I fear, are more real than the eating.
I turned about and went out lest the hairs
In my coat might scatter.