I do n't care if she's twic't as old as me,
For I've been figgerin’ and figgers shows
That I'll grow older faster than she grows,
And when I'm twenty-one or so, why, she
Wo n't be near twic't as old as me no more,
And then almost the first thing that she knows
I might ketch up to her some day, I s'pose,
And both of us be gladder than before.
When I get whiskers I can let them grow
All up and down my cheeks and on my chin,
And in a little while they might begin
To make me look as old as her, and so
She'd snuggle up to me and call me “paw.”
And then I'd call her “pet” instead of “maw.”