"I have been wanting to repeat to you what I call some very nice poetry, which Mr. Crow made about a dream of mine. It is really the best thing he ever wrote, and although I the same as promised not to ask you to listen to anything more of his, I am very anxious for you to hear it."
"Don't think that I object so severely to what Mr. Crow writes," your Aunt Amy replied. "I have heard a number of things he wrote which I thought were very good indeed."
Then Mrs. Mouser Cat repeated the following:
Kitty cat, kitty cat, asleep on the rug,With velvet paws beneath your head nice and snug,What are you dreaming of? What do you thinkWhen out slips your little tongue so soft and pink?
When you flick your ears, and your whiskers quiver so,And you give an eager cry like a whisper low;When your tail pats the rug so intent, and you seemJust ready for a spring, tell me what do you dream?
When Mrs. Mouser Dreams
"Oh, I have a fairy-land I visit in my sleep,Where the mice don't expect me and are playing bo-peep;Down I pounce upon them, they are not so quick as I,And I smile as I regale myself upon a mouse pie;
"There are pantries where the pans of milk are brimming o'er,Where I lap the rich cream and spill no drop upon the floor;Loveliest custards, daintiest bits of fragrant cheese;And I help myself without a word as often as I please.
"Then I walk along the fences and I grandly wave my tail;My whiskers are so fierce all the other cats turn pale;When Pug and Towser eye me, suspiciously, I know,I give a spring upon them and off in fright they go.
"And in my pretty fairy-land no cruel boys appear;Only black eats and white cats, and purrs and mews to hear.And these are what my visions are, oh little mistress sweet;Sure any cat would need to smile asleep here at your feet."
A Cat's Dreamland
"Now I really think that is good, Mrs. Mouser," and your Aunt Amy spoke no more than the truth. "I don't seriously object to Mr. Crow's nonsense verses; but at the same time I never really enjoy them."
"Of course there's a difference in tastes," Mrs. Mouser said thoughtfully. "Some of the things which Bunny Rabbit thinks are good, I don't like at all, and perhaps he objects to what I believe is very fine. Now here is a story Mr. Crow has got about Mr. Man's boy Tommy. Mamma Speckle thinks there was nothing like it ever told. He says that Tommy Man, one night after he had been tucked up in his crib, was awakened by a strange, humming, buzzing sound close to his head, and when he got out the sand that the 'sand-man' had put in his eyes, he stared about him. There on the bottom of the bed was a fearful hobgoblin, so Tommy Man thought, with big round eyes, awfully long legs and wings, and a beak that looked like a trooper's sword.
"'Are you one of those angels that my mamma said took care of little boys at night?' asked Tommy Man, trembling.' 'Cause if you are I guess I can get along by myself all right; you needn't stay.'
"But the mosquito made a jab with his bill at the bed-clothes over Tommy's chin, and said, loudly:
"'Cousin-n-n-n-n, Cousin-n-n-n.'
"'Oh, you're a cousin, are you? I wonder which one?'
"'Z-z-i-m m-m,' answered the mosquito, buzzing about Tommy Man's head.
The Unexpected Visitor
"'Zim? Oh, I guess you must be that soldier cousin of mother's by the looks of the sword you carry; his name was Jim.'
"'Cousin-n-n-n-n!' buzzed the mosquito sharply. 'Don't you know your own relations?'
"'You my relation?' Tommy asked in amazement. 'How do you make that out?'
"'Oh, easy. Relations are those who have the same blood in them, ain't they?'
"'Yes,' assented Tommy.
"'Well, you and I have the same blood. You had it, and now I've got it. I just tapped you, you know.'
"Tommy didn't know anything of the kind, and he was terribly frightened, so he just covered up his head, and trembled until Mr. Mosquito flew away."
"Those are what I call nonsense stories," your Aunt Amy said when Mrs. Mouser ceased speaking, and she replied quite sharply:
"Of course they are, and that is about all the animals on this farm know."
"I am certain you make a mistake, Mrs. Mouser Cat, for you have told me several this afternoon which teach a good lesson," your Aunt Amy said, and for a moment it seemed very much as if Mrs. Mouser was angry, but her face brightened an instant later, as she cried:
"I've got the very story for you, although it's about a mouse, and I don't really believe in talking of them so much, for it makes it appear as if they were of great importance, when all they are fit for is to furnish food for us cats.
"Once upon a time there was a miller who lived in his mill, and on a certain morning, when he was opening the sacks of grain, out hopped a little mouse.
"'Oh, wife, wife!' he cried as if he had seen some horrible animal. 'Bring me the butcher knife so that I can kill this mouse!'
"But the little mouse put her paws together and begged for her life. She promised to keep the mill free from mice if the miller would spare her life. Well, after a good deal of talk the miller agreed that she should be allowed to live in the mill, and for a whole month she kept her word so well that not even a mouse's tail was seen anywhere around the place. Then, one morning the miller heard a faint squeaking, and he cried out angrily:
"'What's this, Mrs. Mouse? You have forgotten your promise, and let in some of your friends.'
"No,' answered the little mouse, 'I have kept my promise. Those are my three babies, who were born last night,' and she led the way proudly to her nest, where the three squirming little mouse babies lay.
"'So this is the way you keep your word, is it?' the miller cried angrily. 'You promised to drive all other mice away from this mill, and here are three who have come to get their living from me!'
"Then he picked up the babies and threw them into the river. Oh, but the little mouse was angry! Yet she was only a mouse, and he was a man, so she said nothing; but after that, whenever she got a chance, she gnawed and gnawed and gnawed at the outer post of the mill, sometimes working the whole night long.
"Then came a big storm, and the river rose very high; the posts which were half gnawed through, broke, and the mill fell over into the river.
"'Save me! Save me!' shouted the miller as the swiftly-running current carried him down the stream.
"'I am sending you to find my lost babies,' squeaked the little mouse as she ran to and fro on the bank.
"There's a good lesson in that story, if you know how to find it," Mrs. Mouser said as she curled herself into a little ball near the fireplace, much as though she had come to an end of her story-telling; but just at that moment a mouse showed his nose in one corner of the room.
In an instant Mrs. Mouser Cat was on her feet looking as if she had never thought of such a thing as taking a nap, and in a very few seconds she had the mouse in her claws.
Mrs. Mouser Cat Catches a Mouse
"I guess this breaks up my visit," she said, going toward the door. "I must give the kittens a chance to learn how a mouse should be caught, and it isn't likely I'll have time to come back here this afternoon."
Then Mrs. Mouser Cat disappeared through the half-opened door, and your Aunt Amy was left alone, wondering which, of all the animals on the farm, would be the next to provide her with an afternoon's entertainment.