"Pussy sits behind the log; how can she be fair?

Then comes in the little dog: Pussy, are you there?

So, so, dear mistress pussy, pray tell me how you do!

I thank you, little dog, I am very well just now."

Behind the log, in the reek and mould,

How many poor things are there,

Who else might be sought, and caressed,

and told,

So tenderly, they were fair!

Behind the log, ah, behind the log,

Such only can tell us how

They are glad of a word from a little dog

Who pauses to say Bow-wow!

Original