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Mrs. Gamp and Mrs. Puss-Cat lived all by themselves in a wee wee house.
Mrs. Gamp was a dear old soul with snowy white hair, and rosy red
cheeks, and such a smiling face and kind soft heart.
Mrs. Puss-Cat had a lovely tabby coat, as smooth as velvet, and a
beautiful fluffy tail. Her eyes were bright and twinkly, and she would
sit in front of the fire for hours and hours thinking of nothing but
mischief.
One day Mrs. Gamp was invited out to tea. She put on her very best gown,
and her new mob-cap trimmed with ribbons and flowers.
When she looked at herself in the glass she felt pleased!
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As soon as Mrs. Gamp had gone, Mrs. Puss-Cat gave three loud purrs of
joy, and all the mischief she had been thinking came out at once.
She trotted into the garden and got her feet all covered with mud.
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Then she scampered upstairs, and danced a cat dance all over the clean
white counterpane on Mrs. Gamp's bed. She climbed on the washstand, and
upset the water jug, then she squeezed into the wardrobe, and pulled
Mrs. Gamp's dresses out on to the floor. And some of them she tore to
teeny tiny shreds!
When she had finished she darted out of the room.
But alack-a-day! At the top of the stairs she slipped, and
fell—bumpetty, bumpetty, bump, all the way to the bottom.
Presently Mrs. Gamp came home. And the first thing she heard was a
strange noise in the kitchen. First a miaou. Then a sob. Then more
miaous. Then—sob, sob, sob! She opened the door, and there, perched upon
a stool in front of the dresser sat Mrs. Puss-Cat.
Her head was swollen very, _very_ big. Round her neck was tied some of
the ribbon off Mrs. Gamp's best bonnet, and another piece was twisted
round one fat paw. And from her big round eyes great tear-drops were
falling—splash, splash upon the floor.
Mrs. Gamp threw up her arms. “Oh! dearie me!” she cried. “What ever is
the matter? Oh! dearie, dearie me!”
“Miaou, miaou!” sobbed Mrs. Puss-Cat. “Oh! my poor paw! My poor, poor
paw!”
Mrs. Gamp's tender heart was touched. She rushed upstairs to fetch some
ointment. But when she opened her bedroom door—well! _you_ know what she
saw!
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Her tender heart grew cold as stone, and oh! she was _so_ angry! She
raced downstairs, and gave Mrs. Puss-Cat the biggest whipping she had
ever given her before.
Then she took off her best ribbon, and opened the front door wide.
And Mrs. Puss-Cat went slinking out with her tail between her legs, and
a terribly vicious look in her big round eyes.
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But Mrs. Gamp's heart soon grew tender again.
She opened the front door, and called Mrs. Puss-Cat back. And Mrs.
Puss-Cat came at once, looking very penitent and sad.
Mrs. Gamp gave her some nice hot milk, and put her in a comfy basket in
front of the fire.
Then she sat by her side, and stroked her smooth velvety head.
And slowly all the naughty mischief slipped out of Mrs. Puss-Cat's head,
and nice, kind thoughts came in.
And now she is really and truly the nicest Mrs. Puss-Cat in the world.
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The Conceited Golliwog.
Said a conceited Golliwog,
Whose name was Billy Brown,
“I can play the banjo better
Than any man in town.”
When Billy Brown a concert gave,
He'd scarce begun to play,
When half the audience stopped their ears,
And half ran fast away!
O Billy Brown, O Boys and Girls,
Who to be famous thirst,
Remember, if you would succeed,
You're bound to _practise_ first.
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Dolly's Name.
I knew a charming little girl!
They call her “Darling May,”
She was so glad when mother bought
For her a doll, one day.
She skipped and jumped and ran about,
And clapped her hands with glee,
“Oh dear!” she said, “I'm sure mamma
This cannot be for me?
“Just see what lovely eyes it has,
What lovely golden hair;
It's feet and hands are made of wax,
“'Tis perfect everywhere.
“I'll set to work and make its clothes,
A hat, too, with the rest,
And it must have a pretty name,
I wonder which is best!
“'Alice' and 'Bess' and 'Mary Annie'
Are not so very new;
No, dolly, dear, I'll try to find
A better name for you.
“'Priscilla Prue' sounds rather nice,
So does 'Belinda Jane,'
But they're so long—dear me, how hard
It is to choose a name!
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“I wonder how mamma chose mine,
It's 'Alice Evelyn May;'
I'm sure it must have taken her
Much longer than a day.
“Perhaps, she asked me which I'd like,
Tho' it's so long ago—
Six great long years—that if she did
I've quite forgot you know.
“I think, dear dolly, quite new names
Are rather hard to find,
So if I cannot think of one,
I hope you will not mind.
“I'd like to find you one that's grand,
But nice and pretty too—
Oh! now I know, 'Victoria Rose,'
Is just the name for you.”