Sent hither, by Heaven, to do its decrees, And serve the exclusives, the great F. F. Y. V.; But the Cat declared plainly, with old-fashioned truth, That he knew 'twas a rat, by its venomous tooth; He had seen it in Egypt, in England and France, Yea, all o'er the world it had led him a dance; And now, having found him again on his track, Out! out! went his claws, and up! up! went his back; His hairs stood like bristles, and he wag'd his huge tail, As a farmer swings round him his old-fashioned flail; One bound and one grip, and the Rat was "non est," For Tabby too tightly his throttle had pressed! [Illustration: 020] |A quarrelsome, snarling, aristocrat cur, 'Way down in the South, you may safely infer, Disgusted with Tabby, now raised quite a fuss, And blustered and swore he would kick up a muss; He foamed at the mouth, and he shouted "Secession!" Till curdom reechoed the hateful expression. At length so excited the whiffet became, It was thought by his friends that the dog was insane! But, when he saw pussy his rage knew no limit; It drove him stark mad in the very same minute; He vowed with the shackles of Slavery to bind her, And worried the Cat wheresoe'er he could find her. Nay, more: in his madness, with fire and with sword, He swore not to stop till the last drop was poured, From the cup of his fury, on Temple and Nation And Moloch rejoiced in the horrid oblation. [Illustration: 022] |Of American breed, and the purest extraction, She roamed o'er the pasture, and cared not a fraction What Cow, beside her, cropped the rich, flowery mead, Or drank of the stream which her thirst had relieved; 'Twas nothing to her how many, beside her, Partook of the good Heaven had not denied her! Sheep, Horses and Oxen--nay, even the Ass, Though Southern, was welcome to crop the sweet grass. With such a fine temper her coat was like silk, And she yielded the richest abundance of milk. Now it happened, one day, that the ill-favored hound Was worrying pussy, who refuge had found Near the Cow, who good-naturedly looked up, to view What was passing--as cows very naturally do-- When she saw at a glance the true state of the case, And she told the Dog plainly he'd soon end his race Unless he desisted to torture and plot The ruin of each beast in the National Lot. But the Dog was transformed! and a demon was there, Incarnate and hidden, beneath the whelp's hair; Divinity issued its fiat of Fate, And the dog-fiend stood ready to launch forth its hate. With demoniac rage, and a terrible roar, That none but a fiend ever uttered before, He sprung to his work of destruction and death, Intending to finish it up with a breath! But the Cow made a bow at the game he was trying, Put her horns to his ribs, and then--sent him up-flying! [Illustration: 024] |No marvel that sorrow and sadness oppress her-- That the loss of her loved ones should grieve and distress her;