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1854–1925

TIP'S KITTEN

Edith Matilda Thomas

The master,— he loved my kitten, my kitten; She was still too weak to stand, When he placed her upon one hand, And over it laid the other,

And looked at me kindly, and said, “Tip, you're a proud little mother!” For they'd left me but one, my kitten, my kitten — As sweet as a kitten could be —

And I loved her for all the three They had taken away without warning. I watched her from daylight till dark, Watched her from night until morning!

I never left my kitten, my kitten ( For I feared — and I loved her so! ) Till I thought it time she should know That cats in the house have a duty,

And a right to be proud of their skill, As well as their grace and their beauty. I only left my kitten, my kitten, A few short moments in all,

To punish the mouse in the wall, Each day growing bolder and bolder; And I brought her the mouse to show What kittens must do when older.

I brought her the mouse — my kitten, my kitten! I tossed it, I caught it for her; But she would not see, nor stir. My heart it beat fast and faster;

And I caught her up in my mouth, And carried her so, to the master. I thought he would help — my kitten, my kitten! And I laid her down at his feet —

( Never a kitten so sweet, And he knew that I had no other! ) But he only said, “Poor Tip, ‘ Tis a sad day for you, little mother!”

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TIP'S KITTEN · Edith Matilda Thomas · Poetry Cove