The other night while we lay musing, and our weary brain confusing o'er the topics of the day,
Suddenly we heard a rattling, as of serious hosts a-battling, as they mingled in the fray.
'What is that?' we cried, upstarting, and into the darkness darting, slap! we ran against the door.
'Oh , 'tis nothing,' Edward grumbled, as o'er a huge armchair we stumbled, ''tis a bug and nothing more.'
Then said we, our anger rising (for we thought it so surprising that a bug should thus offend)—
'Do you think a small insect, sir, thus would all the air infect, sir? No, 'tis not a bug, my friend.
Now, becoming sorely frightened, round our waist our pants we tightened, and put on our coat and hat—
When into the darkness peering, we saw with trembling and much fearing, the glaring eyes of Thomas Cat.
With astonishment and wonder we gazed upon this son of thunder, as he sat upon the floor—
When resolution taking, and a rapid movement making, lo, we opened wide the door.
Now, clear out, we hoarsely shouted, as o'er head our boot was flouted. 'Take your presence from my floor.'
Then with air and mien majestic, this dear creature called domestic, made his exit through the door.
Made his exit without growling, neither was his voice howling, not a single word he said.
And with feelings much elated, to escape a doom so fated, we went back to bed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.