Good and Bad Kittens

Kittens, you are very little,
    And your kitten bones are brittle,
If you'd grow to Cats respected,
    See your play be not neglected.

Smite the Sudden Spool, and spring
    Upon the Swift Elusive String,
Thus you learn to catch the wary
    Mister Mouse or Miss Canary.

That is how in Foreign Places
    Fluffy Cubs with Kitten faces,
Where the mango waves sedately,
    Grow to Lions large and stately.

But the Kittencats who snatch
    Rudely for their food, or scratch,
Grow to Tomcats gaunt and gory,--
    Theirs is quite another story.

Cats like these are put away
    By the dread S. P. C. A.,
Or to trusting Aunts and Sisters
    Sold as Sable Muffs and Wristers.

Oliver Herford

Oliver Herford was born in England on December 2, 1860. He was a British-born American writer, artist, and illustrator, often referred to as 'The American Oscar Wilde' for his sharp wit and humorous works. Herford authored and illustrated many books for children and adults, contributing to magazines such as "The Criterion", "Life", and "Punch". He died on July 5, 1935, in France.

Oliver Herford

Stairs - A Toast

Oliver Herford, Simple Poetry

The Satyr

Oliver Herford, Simple Poetry

Anticipation

Oliver Herford, Simple Poetry

John D. Rockefeller

Oliver Herford, Simple Poetry

English

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Education

When People think that Kittens play,
    It's really quite the other way.
For when they chase the Ball or Bobbin
    They learn to catch a Mouse or Robin.

The Kitten, deaf to Duty's call,
    Who will not chase the bounding ball,
A hungry Cathood will enjoy,
    The scorn of Mouse and Bird and Boy.

Oliver Herford

Foreign Kittens

Kittens large and Kittens small,
Prowling on the Back Yard Wall,
Though your fur be rough and few,
I should like to play with you.
Though you roam the dangerous street,
And have curious things to eat,
Though you sleep in barn or loft,
With no cushions warm and soft,
Though you have to stay out-doors
When it's cold or when it pours,
Though your fur is all askew--
How I'd like to play with you!

Oliver Herford

The Whole Duty of Kittens

When Human Folk at Table eat,
    A Kitten must not mew for meat,
Or jump to grab it from the Dish,
    (Unless it happens to be fish).

Oliver Herford

Old Dame And Cats.

        He who holds friendship with a knave,
        Will reputation hardly save;
        And thus upon our choice of friends
        Our good or evil name depends.

        A wrinkled hag - of naughty fame -
        Sat hovering o'er a flickering flame,
        Propped with both hands upon her knees
        She shook with palsy and the breeze.
        She had perhaps seen fourscore years,
        And backwards said her daily prayers;
        Her troop of cats with hunger mewed, -
        Tabbies and toms, a numerous brood.
        Teased with their murmuring, out she flew
        In angry passion: "Hence, ye crew! -
        What made me take to keeping cats?
        Ye are as bad as bawling brats:
        With brats I might perhaps have grown rich;

John Gay

The Shadow Kitten

There's a funny little kitten that tries to look like me,
    But though I'm round and fluffy, he's as flat as flat can be;
And when I try to mew to him he never makes a sound,
    And when I jump into the air he never leaves the ground.

He has a way of growing, I don't understand at all.
    Sometimes he's very little and sometimes he's very tall.
And once when in the garden when the sun came up at dawn
    He grew so big I think he stretched half-way across the lawn.

Oliver Herford

The Kitten And Falling Leaves

That way look, my Infant, lo!
What a pretty baby-show!
See the kitten on the wall,
Sporting with the leaves that fall,
Withered leaves, one, two, and three
From the lofty elder-tree!
Through the calm and frosty air
Of this morning bright and fair,
Eddying round and round they sink
Softly, slowly: one might think,
From the motions that are made,
Every little leaf conveyed
Sylph or Faery hither tending,
To this lower world descending,
Each invisible and mute,
In his wavering parachute.
But the Kitten, how she starts,
Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts!
First at one, and then its fellow
Just as light and just as yellow;
There are many now, now one
Now they stop and there are none
What intenseness of desire
In her upward eye of...

William Wordsworth