which Mr. Crow made about a dream of mine. It is really the best thing
he ever wrote, and although I the same as promised not to ask you to
listen to anything more of his, I am very anxious for you to hear it."

"Don't think that I object so severely to what Mr. Crow writes," your
Aunt Amy replied. "I have heard a number of things he wrote which I
thought were very good indeed."

Then Mrs. Mouser Cat repeated the following:

Kitty cat, kitty cat, asleep on the rug,
With velvet paws beneath your head nice and snug,
What are you dreaming of? What do you think
When out slips your little tongue so soft and pink?

When you flick your ears, and your whiskers quiver so,
And you give an eager cry like a whisper low;
When your tail pats the rug so intent, and you seem
Just ready for a spring, tell me what do you dream?

[Illustration: When Mrs. Mouser Dreams.]

"Oh, I have a fairy-land I visit in my sleep,
Where the mice don't expect me and are playing bo-peep;
Down I pounce upon them, they are not so quick as I,
And I smile as I regale myself upon a mouse pie;

"There are pantries where the pans of milk are brimming o'er,
Where I lap the rich cream and spill no drop upon the floor;
Loveliest custards, daintiest bits of fragrant cheese;