sparrows
Ready to eat when I chose to....
But when the sun was gone,
So were the sparrows!

THIRTY-THIRD CATERWAUL

The Mallorys have taken me in....
Mallory says: one more to feed....
But the children like it to play
And it looks like Horton’s old cat
So it’s certain to be a good one....
Even if discarded.

THIRTY-FOURTH CATERWAUL

Mrs. Mallory read from the paper
Where wise ones answer fool’s queries
And this was one of the questions:
Is it possible a woman
Who has bitten her nails all her life
Since first she had teeth
Could so cause her baby
The affliction of two thumbs on one hand?...
Did they ever think that of cats?

THIRTY-FIFTH CATERWAUL

If we really had nine lives,
None akin to the others
And all the hopes of each life
Were answered in the next,
Perhaps a cat’s existence would
Still be unsatisfactory?

THIRTY-SIXTH CATERWAUL

Joe Mallory told Jack about Alice—
At least of her fate.
Jack found her address
And wanted to help....
And yet there are some
Who believe heredity infallible!

THIRTY-SEVENTH CATERWAUL

While Jack tried to smother
Alice’s wild burning fires
Joe never obtruded—
But when Jack was not watching
Joe brought more wood
To the kindling....
Still they were friends.

THIRTY-EIGHTH CATERWAUL

You should have read Brough’s
Obituary.... He died
When he’d rescued a fortune
By making hardware and debts:
... Most Respected Merchant ...
Philanthropist.... Loss to
The Community ... and over a
Dozen “Resolved’s.”
The Merchants’ Club framed his picture.
And to think
Generations of men proudly
Will claim his descent!

THIRTY-NINTH CATERWAUL

Edith Horton is married—
(Joe Mallory went to the wedding)—
Many a thorn-edge is dulled
By brushing it by in a hurry....
And roses often change hue
Between the bright sun and the limelight.

FORTIETH CATERWAUL

I watched a man cranking his motor.
It stalled....
He tinkered with levers
Till he gave it up in despair
And stood disconsolate staring.
When he cranked it again
It started so quickly
That it raised the hair of my coat.

FORTY-FIRST CATERWAUL

Jones’ collie and Mallory’s hound
Were discussing a new-found bone
With vicious snarling and snapping
And other unseemly behaviour....
On the fence above them I sat
Distressed....
Neither dared touch the prize....
Nor would either allow the other.
Then Jerry and Joe both whistled....
The bone lies forgotten and wasted.

FORTY-SECOND CATERWAUL

It grew very warm in the house,
The Mallorys mopping and sweating—
Perspiration is fuel for temper—
Even I couldn’t stand the heat
Nor tell them no windows were open....
But cats are always too obvious;
So I went out for a walk.

FORTY-THIRD CATERWAUL

Alice is dead of consumption....
All Jack’s efforts were useless;
Disconsolate he tried to comfort
The last of her wasted moments....
“God will forgive you,” he whispered....
Yet who is the judge of the Damned?—
And Joe is much disappointed
Though he feels he may have hurried
Alice’s end.... I wonder
What I repent?—or is it only
Regret?

FORTY-FOURTH CATERWAUL

All my life I have studied
The passerby-faces
And known them....
Sometimes they noticed me;
Others more often seemed
Unconscious I saw them.
I wondered what they were thinking....
Or had they no thoughts
But like wax that responds
To momentary impressions?
I’m sure I read all the faces....
Did I know them—
Except when they kicked me
Or petted?

FORTY-FIFTH CATERWAUL

At last I have to