The Poetry Corner

Find The Favorite

By James Whitcomb Riley

Our three cats is Maltese cats, An' they's two that's white, - An' bofe of 'em's deef - an' that's 'Cause their eyes ain't right. - Uncle say that Huxley say Eyes of white Maltese - When they don't match thataway - They're deef as you please! Girls, they like our white cats best, 'Cause they're white as snow, Yes, an' look the stylishest - But they're deef, you know! They don't know their names, an' don't Hear us when we call "Come in, Nick an' Finn!" - they won't Come fer us at all! But our other cat, he knows Mister Nick an' Finn, - Mowg's his name, - an' when he goes Fer 'em, they come in! Mowgli's all his name - the same Me an' Muvver took Like the Wolf-Child's other name, In "The Jungul Book." I bet Mowg's the smartest cat In the world! - He's not White, but mousy-plush, with that Smoky gloss he's got! All's got little bells to ring, Round their neck; but none Only Mowg knows anything - He's the only one! I ist 'spect sometimes he hate White cats' stupid ways: - He won't hardly 'sociate With 'em, lots o' days! Mowg wants in where we air, - well, He'll ist take his paw An' ist ring an' ring his bell There till me er Ma Er somebody lets him in Nen an' shuts the door. - An', when he wants out ag'in, Nen he'll ring some more. Ort to hear our Katy tell! She sleeps 'way up-stairs; An' last night she hear Mowg's bell Ringin' round somewheres... Trees grows by her winder. - So, She lean out an' see Mowg up there, 'way out, you know, In the clingstone-tree; - An'-sir! he ist hint an' ring, - Till she ketch an' plat Them limbs; - nen he crawl an' spring In where Katy's at!