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The Kitten's Garden of Verses The Kitten's Garden of Verses by Birmingham Fellow in English Literature of the Long Nineteenth Century Oliver Herford
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“At evening when the lamp is lit,
The tired Human People sit
And doze, or turn with solemn looks
The speckled pages of their books.

Then I, the Dangerous Kitten, prowl
And in the Shadows softly growl,
And roam about the farthest floor
Where Kitten never trod before.

And, crouching in the jungle damp,
I watch the Human Hunter’s camp,
Ready to spring with fearful roar
As soon as I shall hear them snore.

And then with stealthy tread I crawl
Into the dark and trackless hall,
Where 'neath the Hat-tree's shadows deep
Umbrellas fold their wings and sleep.

A cuckoo calls — and to their dens
The People climb like frightened hens,
And I'm alone — and no one cares
In Darkest Africa — downstairs.”
Oliver Herford, The Kitten's Garden of Verses
“When I grow up I mean to be
A Lion large and fierce to see.
I'll mew so loud that Cook in fright
Will give me all the cream in sight.
And anyone who dares to say
'Poor Puss' to me will rue the day.
Then having swallowed him I'll creep
Into the Guest Room Bed to sleep.”
Oliver Herford, The Kitten's Garden of Verses