The Quarrel Poem by Nancy Byrd Turner

The Wooden Dog and the China Cat
Face to face in the doll-house sat,
And they picked a quarrel that grew and grew,
Because they had nothing else to do.
Said the dog, 'I really would like to hear
Why you never stir nor frisk nor purr,
But sit like a mummy there.'

Up spoke in a temper the china puss,
Glad of an opening for a fuss:
'Dear Mr. Puppy, I can't recall
That I ever heard you bark at all.
Your bark is a wooden bark, 'tis true,
But as to that,' said the China Cat,
'My mew is a china mew.'

So they bristled and quarreled, more and more,
Till the baby came creeping across the floor.
He took the cat by his whiskers frail,
He grasped the dog by his wooden tail,
And banged them together—and after that
Left them, a wiser Wooden Dog
And a sadder China Cat.

Now, children, just between you and me,
Don't you think in the future they will agree?