There lived in another close by,
  A dame, whom they called Lady Kitty;
But that she was stationed so nigh,
  Miss Mouse often thought a great pity.

For she, though so soberly clad,
  And never inclined to ill-speaking,
Had often a fancy to gad,
  Or more than her own might be seeking.

She did not then like to be scanned,
  Or questioned respecting her duty,
When some little theft she had planned,
  Or seen coming home with her booty.

So modest she was, and so shy,
  Although an inveterate sinner,
She’d nip out her part of the pie
  Before it was brought up to dinner.

She held that ’twas folly to ask
  For what her own wits would allow her;
And, making her way through the cask,
  She helped herself well to the flour.

The candles she scraped to their wicks;
  And, mischievous in her invention,
Would do many more naughty tricks,
  Which I, as her friend, cannot mention.

Kit, too, had her living to make,
  And yet, she was so above toiling,
She’d sooner attack the beef-steak,
  When the cook had prepared it for broiling.

And so, near a dish of warm toast,
  She often most patiently lingered,
To seize her first chance; yet, could boast
  That none ever called her light-fingered.

But mending, or minding herself,
  She thought would be quite too much labor,
And so peeped about on the shelf,
  To spy out the faults of her neighbor.

For Mouse loved to promenade there,
  While Kit would watch close to waylay her;
And once, in the midst of her fare,
  Up bounded Miss Kitty to slay her!

But this was as luckless a jump
  As ever Kit made, with the clatter
Of knife, skimmer, spoon, and a thump,
  Which she got, as she threw down the platter.

While Mouse glided under a dish. 
  Escaping the mortal disaster,
Miss Kitty turned off to a fish,
  The breakfast elect for her master.

Said she to herself, “Tis clear gain,—­
  This rarity, fresh from the water,
Will save my white mittens the stain—­
  And me from the trouble of slaughter!”

But her racket, she found to her cost,
  The plot had most fatally thickened;
And all hope of mercy was lost,
  As Jack’s coming footstep was quickened.

He seized her, and binding her fast. 
  Declared he could never forgive her;
So Kitty was sentenced and cast,
  With a stone at her neck, in the river!

But Mouse still continued to thieve;
  And often, alone in her dwelling,
Would silently laugh in her sleeve,
  At the scene in the tale I’ve been telling—­

Till once, by a fatal mishap,
  The little unfortunate rover
Perceived herself close in a trap,
  And felt that her race was now over.

She knew she must leave all behind;
  And thus, in the midst of her terrors,
As every thing rushed to her mind,
  Began her confession of errors:—­