A baby-girl, on Christmas night
Had filled her little apron white
With all a happy child could take
Of Christmas toys and Christmas cake;
But on the stairway she let fall
The chiefest treasure of them all--
A little cat of gingerbread
All frosted white from tail to head.
Now in the moonlit midnight time,
When merry mice do run and climb,
A plump gray mouse come down the stair
And saw the Christmas cake-cat there.
She stood still in her cruel fright
And gazed upon the monster white
Who seemed to feel as great surprise,
And stared with both his raisin eyes.
Poor mousie dared not, could not stir!
Her little brain was in a whirr!
Five minutes--ten--but not a paw
Had puss put forth! "I never saw
A cat like this!" the poor mouse said.
A brave bold thought came in her head--
Her wee heart beating pit-a-pat,
She moved her own paw--touched the cat--
Then sprang upon it with a squeal
And made a most delicious meal
"Ho! ho!" she cried, "Sugar! spice!
And everything that's good and nice--
That's what cats are made of,
The cats that we're afraid of!"
Then up the stairs she madly pranced,
And o'er the attic floor she danced
And then she stood upon her head
And to her 'stonished friends she said,
"O, joy to every mouse and rat,
For I have eaten up the cat!"