Punky Dunk, so fat, was a black and white cat
Of exceedingly tender years.
He had black on his nose and the tips of his toes,
On the end of his tail and his ears.
He cast his lot in a very soft spot
For his bed was a box full of straw,
And he slept all night with his eyes shut tight
And his little black nose on his paw.
Punky Dunk would peep, though he seemed asleep,
At the bird in its cage of brass,
And his tail he swayed when the gold fish played
In their clear little bowl of glass.
“Though my coat’s like silk from my drinking milk,”
He would say, “I often wish
I might change my food—as I think I should—
To a meal on a nice plump fish.”
So he winked his eye and he heaved a sigh,
And he said: “I really think
That it would be grand to jump on that stand
And see how the fishes drink.”
The fish globe round he reached with a bound
And stood with his paws on the rim
Looking in with an air that was certain to scare
The fish as they looked at him.
His cunning head bent and his little nose went
Right down, while his tongue flashed red—
When, O, what a sight! The fish in their fright
Splashed water all over his head.
And Punky Dunk howled and Punky Dunk yowled
And Punky Dunk fell to the floor,
And he bristled and spat like a terrified cat
As he fled through the dining room door.
In the big glass bowl, when the waves ceased to roll
All the little gold fish were so glad
That each wiggled his fins as he said through his grins:
“That’s the most fun we ever have had.”
Now Punky Dunk lies on the floor and he sighs:
“It is best for a cat to be good,
For I cannot forget how I got my coat wet
When I didn’t do just as I should.”
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