WHIT-
TINGTON
AND HIS
CAT

From distant lands where precious musks
And jewels rare are found,

What joy to waft across the seas
Their spoils to English ground!’

So hasted then each one on board,
With what he best could find,

Before the ship for Afric’s strand
Flew swiftly with the wind.

The little boy he was so poor,
No goods had he to try,

And as he stood and saw the ship,
A tear bedimmed his eye,

To think how fortune smiled on all
Except on his sad lot—

As if he were by gracious Heaven
Neglected and forgot!

The merchant and his daughter too,
Fair Alice, marked his grief,

And with a gentle woman’s heart,
Intent on kind relief,

She bade him bring his cat to try
Her fortune o’er the sea;

‘Who knows,’ she said, ‘what she may

catch
In gratitude to thee!’
With weeping and with sore lament
He brought poor puss on board.
And now the ship stood out for sea,
With England’s produce stored ;
And as she sped far out of sight,
His heart was like to break ;
His friend was gone that shared his crust,
Far sweeter for her sake.
Humble his lot the merchant knew,
But knew not that the cook
With blows and cuffs the boy assailed,
And surly word and look,
Until his life a burden seemed,
Too srevous to be borne,
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