What shape of courage and wrath appears?
A cat, a tortoiseshell mother-cat!
And a very diminutive cat at that!
And below her, nesting upon the ground,
A litter of tiny kits they found:
Tortoiseshell kittens, one, two, three,
Lying as snug as snug could be.
And they took the kittens with shouts of laughter
And turned for home, and the cat came after.
And when in the camp they told their tale,
The women--but stop! I draw a veil.
The cat had tent-life forced upon her
And was kept in comfort and fed with honour;
But Dickon has heard his fill
Of the furious dragon
They tried to bag on
The dragonless summit, the gorse-clad summit,
the summit of Winter Hill!


FLUFFY, A CAT

So now your tale of years is done,
Old Fluff, my friend, and you have won,
Beyond our land of mist and rain,
Your way to the Elysian plain,
Where through the shining hours of heat
A cat may bask and lap and eat;
Where goldfish glitter in the streams,
And mice refresh your waking dreams,