Nature Sonnet (By the Village Poet)

We’ve got a cunning little kitten dear,

     And he – or she – has grown to quite pet

     But I don’t know as we can keep it yet

‘Cause pa, and on this score he’s quite severe,

Declares no lady cats can be quartered here.

     And ma she says he’d better wait and see,

     But pa says he’s certain as can be,

And day by day for him – or her – I fear.

I can’t see why this fuss is made at all,

     The kitten, he or she, is not to blame;

I think that pa has got an awful gall,

     But wouldn’t dare to say so just the same.

I wonder would it killed his earthly joy

Had I been born a girl ‘stid of a boy.

Jan. 25, 1917