Kit with the Rose

A rose tree stood in the parlor,
When kit came frolicking by;
So up went her feet on the window-seat,
To a rose, that had caught her eye.

She gave it a cuff, and it trembled
Beneath her ominous paw;
And while it shook, with a threatening look
She coveted what she saw.

Thought she, "What a beautiful toss-ball,
If I could but give it a snap,
Now all are out, nor thinking about
Their rose, or the least mishap!"

She twisted the stem, and she twirled it;
And, seizing the flower it bore
With the timely aid of her teeth, she made
A leap to the parlor floor.

And over the carpet she tossed it,
All fresh in its morning bloom,
Till shattered and rent, its leaves were sent
To every side of the room.

At length, with her sport grown weary,
She laid herself down to sun,
Inclining to doze, forgetting the rose
And the mischief she had done.

By and by her young mistress entered,
And uttered a piteous cry,
When she saw the fate of what had so late
Delighted her watchful eye.

But where was the one, who had spoiled it,
Concealing his guilty face?
She had not a clue whereby to pursue
The rogue to his lurking-place.

Thought kit, "I'll keep still till 't is over,
And none will suspect it was I."
For the puss awoke, when her mistress spoke
And she well understood the cry.

But, mewing at length for her dinner,
Kit's mouth confessed the whole truth:
It opened so wide, that her mistress spied
A rose-leaf pierced by her tooth.

Then kit was expelled from the parlor
All covered with shame. And those
Inclined, like her, in secret to err,
Should remember kit with the rose.