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Pussy cat mew.

By L. Frank Baum.

Start of Story

"Pussy-cat, Pussy-cat, where do you go?"
"To London, to visit the palace, you know."
"Pussy-cat Mew, wily you come back again?"
"Oh, yes! I 'll scamper with might and with main!"



Pussy-cat Mew set off on her way,
Stepping quite softly and feeling quite gay.
Smooth was the road, so she traveled at ease,
Warmed by the sunshine and fanned by the breeze.



Over the hills to the valleys below,
Through the deep woods where the soft mosses grow,
Skirting the fields, with buttercups dotted,
Swiftly our venturesome Pussy-cat trotted.



Sharp watch she kept when a village she neared,
For boys and their mischief our Pussy-cat feared!
Often she crept through the grasses so deep
To pass by a dog that was lying asleep.



Once, as she walked through a sweet-clover field,
Something beside her affrightedly squealed,
And swift from her path there darted away
A tiny field-mouse, with a coat of soft gray.

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