The Cat of the Railway Train!

  In the watches of the night he is always fresh and bright;

  Every now and then he has a cup of tea

  With perhaps a drop of Scotch while he's keeping on the watch,

  Only stopping here and there to catch a flea.

  You were fast asleep at Crewe and so you never knew

  That he was walking up and down the station,

  You were sleeping all the while he was busy at Carlisle,

  Where he greets the stationmaster with elation.

  But you saw him at Dumfries, where he speaks to the police

  If there's anything they ought to know about:

  When you get to Gallowgate there you do not have to wait—

  For Skimbleshanks will help you to get out!

  He gives you a wave of his long brown tail

  Which says "I'll see you again!

  You'll meet without fail on the Midnight Mail

  The Cat of the Railway Train."

  THE AD-DRESSING OF CATS

  You've read of several kinds of Cat,

  And my opinion now is that

  You should need no interpreter

  To understand their character.

  You now have learned enough to see

  That Cats are much like you and me

  And other people whom we find

  Possessed of various types of mind.

  For some are sane and some are mad

  And some are good and some are bad

  And some are better, some are worse—

  But all may be described in verse.

  You've seen them both at work and games,

  And learnt about their proper names,

  Their habits and their habitat:

  But

  How low would you ad-dress a Cat?

  So first, your memory I'll jog,

  And say: A CAT IS NOT A DOG.

  Now Dogs pretend they like to fight;

  They often bark, more seldom bite;

  But yet a Dog is, on the whole,

  What you would call a simple soul.

  Of course I'm not including Pekes,

  And such fantastic canine freaks.

  The usual Dog about the Town

  Is much inclined to play the clown,

  And far from showing too much pride

  Is frequently undignified.

  He's very easily taken in—

  Just chuck him underneath the chin

  Or slap his back or shake his paw,

  And he will gambol and guffaw.

  He's such an easy-going lout,

  He'll answer any hail or shout.

  Again I must remind you that

  A Dog’s a Dog—A CAT’S A CAT.

  With Cats, some say, one rule is true:

  Don't speak till you are spoken to.

  Myself, I do not hold with that—

  I say, you should ad-dress a Cat.

  But always keep in mind that he

  Resents familiarity.

  I bow, and taking off my hat,

  Ad-dress him in this form: O CAT!

  But if he is the Cat next door,

  Whom I have often met before

  (He comes to see me in my flat)

  I greet him with an OOPSA CAT!

  I think I've heard them call him James—

  But we've not got so far as names.

  Before a Cat will condescend

  To treat you as a trusted friend,

  Some little token of esteem

  Is needed, like a dish of cream;

  And you might now and then supply

  Some caviare, or Strassburg Pie,

  Some potted grouse, or salmon paste—

  He's sure to have his personal taste.

  (I know a Cat, who makes a habit

  Of eating nothing else but rabbit,

  And when he's finished, licks his paws

  So's not to waste the onion sauce.)

  A Cat's entitled to expect

  These evidences of respect.

  And so in time you reach your aim,

  And finally call him by his NAME.

  So this is this, and that is that:

  And there's how you AD-DRESS A CAT.

  CAT MORGAN INTRODUCES HIMSELF

  I once was a Pirate what sailed the 'igh seas -

  But now I've retired as a com-mission-aire:

  And that's how you find me a-taking' my ease

  And keepin' the door in a Bloomsbury Square.

  I'm partial to partridges, likewise to grouse,

  And I favour that Devonshire cream in a bowl;

  But I'm allus content with a drink on the 'ouse

  And a bit o' cold fish when I done me patrol.

  I ain't got much polish, me manners is gruff,

  But I've got a good coat, and I keep meself smart;

  And everyone says, and I guess that's enough:

  `You can't but like Morgan, 'e's got a kind 'art.'

  I got knocked about on the Barbary Coast,

  And me voice it ain't no sich melliferous horgan;

  But yet I can state, and I'm not one to boast,

  That some of the gals is dead keen on old Morgan.

  So if you 'ave business with Faber - or Faber -

  I'll give you this tip, and it's worth a lot more:

  You'll save yourself time, and you'll spare yourself labour

  If jist you make friends with the Cat at the door.

  MORGAN.

 


 

  T. S. Eliot, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats

  (Series: # )

 

 


 

 
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