Auntie’s Mummy-Cat

Aunt Lou, is it true, as they told, 
You've a kitty three thousand years old, 
That you brought from the banks of the Nile?
Poor puss! it's a pretty long while !
Was he gentle and nice?  Did he use to catch mice 
     In the pantry of Pharaoh's daughter?
Did he "look at the king?" or play with a string 
     For the boy she took out of the water?
Did he ever rub noses with dear little Moses, 
     Or scratch him for pulling his tail?
Can he purr yet, and canter and mew 
As my dear Kitty Gray can do?
     Or has he grown slow as a snail?
Please show him to us, Auntie Lou;
     ‘Tis a wonderful cat, we are certain of that;
     But he must be beginning to fail!
                                               [Enter Puss, on a plaque]

What! No! not that little bundle!  Feugh!
I guess, by the smell, he's as old as they tell;
     And he's deader than Pharaoh, too!
Thanks, auntie, for letting us see ;
But, please, not any for me!
My sweet Kitty Gray, come hither and play, 
My truly ‘live kitty so pretty and gay;
     You are sweeter than this by far!
Live many a day, be old as you may ;
     And when you have ceased to purr 
     You shall sleep in your own soft fur,
And never be swaddled in tar!
     These dried-up mummy-cats,
     Leathery, dummy-cats,
Are nothing so nice as you are!