My pen in paw to say:
Can you explain a curious thing
I found the other day?
There is another little cat
Who sits behind a frame,
And looks so very much like me,
You’d think we were the same.
I try to make her play with me;
Yet, when I mew and call,
Though I see her mew in answer,
She makes no sound at all.
And to, the dullest kitten
It’s plain enough to see
That either I am mocking her,
Or she is mocking me.
It makes no difference what I play,
She seems to know the game;
For every time I look around
I see her do the same.
And yet, no matter though I creep
On tiptoe lest she hear,
Or quickly dash around the frame,
She’s sure to disappear.
Poem: The Witness, 25th April 1917.
Painting: Fairest of them all, Frank Paton.