166 THE FIRESIDE SPHINX 



by worrying a dog, to the huge delight of Sir Walter 

 Scott ; yet who, combining courtesy with valour, 

 was wont to awaken her mistress when she lay late 

 abed, by very gently placing one paw &quot; with its 

 glove on &quot; upon the closed lids. Perhaps this peer 

 less creature was also, in the main, a kitchen cat, 

 Miss Baillie having strict views of her own as to 

 the nature of feline duties. 



&quot; Still be thou deemed by housewife fat, 

 A comely, careful, mousing cat, 

 Whose dish is, for the public good, 

 Replenished oft with savoury food ; &quot; 



is the sober future she holds out to the kitten sport 

 ing by the fire, the tiny comedian whose irrespon 

 sible gayety beguiled her heart, and prompted some 

 of her prettiest lines. 



&quot; Backwards coiled, and crouching low, 

 With glaring eye-balls watch thy foe, 

 The housewife s spindle whirling round, 

 Or thread or straw, that on the ground 

 Its shadow throws, by urchin sly 

 Held out to lure thy roving eye ; 

 Then, onward stealing, fiercely spring 

 Upon the futile, faithless thing. 

 Now, wheeling round with bootless skill, 

 Thy bo-peep tail provokes thee still, 

 And oft, beyond thy curving side, 

 Its jetty tip is seen to glide. 



The nimblest tumbler, stage-bedight, 

 To thee is but a clumsy wight, 



