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[Illustration]

An Autumn Frolic.

One grey as dawn, one white as milk!
With dainty paws, and eyes of flame,
And thick coats soft as richest silk!

They fly like wind, these pussies gay;
Wheel madly round in dizzy game,
Then sudden stop in whirling play.

Up! Off! They follow breathlessly,
With fawn-like grace, the glowing leaves
That dance in farewell whirls of glee.

The wind dies low; in dark'ning west
The day's orb sets 'neath purpling clouds.
At last the two cats pause, and rest.

Tabitha Tiger Reflects.

(_Tabitha Tiger._) Bless my claws and whiskers! but this suspense is
awful. Here I have been waiting for the last two hours behind this
horrid-smelling cheese, and no sign of a mouse yet. And it's just the
time for them, too.

I wonder why housekeepers expect us cats to keep the house free from
mice when they're away for the summer. No self-respecting cat can eat
mice morning, noon and night; and one would have to do so in order to
rid the house of them. Why, I should turn into a squeaking cheese-eater,
myself!

Strange place for Cook to leave cheese, strikes me--the kitchen table;
but it should make a fine hunting ground. If I'd only seen it before, I
needn't have wasted so much time in front of that hole up in the
attic--and I caught only three and a half mice during the whole week.

I suppose some boastful cats would call it four, but a first-class
mouser like myself doesn't have to stretch a tale (Tail! Good pun,
that--Ha! Ha!) to keep up her reputation, and that little Spring mouse
really had no more meat on than half a full-grown one.

Spring mice certainly are delicious if people only realized it--much
sweeter and juicier than Spring Chickens, and _tender_! My Furry Ear-tips!
It makes my mouth water to think of them! Their only drawback is their
drawing back. The best of them will never come out far enough from the
holes for

Gracious Cattails! What was that?

It _is_! There are his whiskers, now an eye--ear--Ah-h-h! _Now_ he's
coming! Yes, right over to this very table--I must keep still. Now down
so: close behind the cheese. It's a good thing I'm not a big cat.

Well, I never! That was a close squeak--I got that tail under just in
time! Pretty poor memory, I call it, to forget one's own tail. If that
mouse had seen--

What! There's another, and half way over here. The first one must be
close by the table leg, th