Kittens in the garden, looking in her face, learning how to spit and swear,
oh, what a disgrace.
Very wrong, very wrong, very wrong and bad.
Such a subject for our song makes us all too sad.
Old Mother Tabbyskins, sticking out her head, gave a howl
and then a yowl, hobbled off to bed.
Very sick, very sick, very savage, too.
Pray, send for a doctor quick-any one will do.
Doctor Mouse came creeping, creeping to her bed, lanced her gums and felt her pulse, whispered she was dead. Very sly, very sly,
the real old cat open kept her weather eye, mouse beware of that!
Old Mother Tabbyskins, saying "Serves him right!"
gobbled up the doctor with infinite delight.
"Very fast, very fast, very pleasant, too.
What a pity it can't last. Send another, do."
Doctor Dog comes running, just to see her begs.
Round his neck a comforter, trousers on his legs.
Very grand, very grand golden headed cane swinging gaily from his hand,
mischief in his brain.
"Dear Mother Tabbyskins, and how are you now, let me feel your pulse, so-so, show your tongue, Bow-wow!" "Very sick, very sick!"
"Please attempt to purr. Will you take a draught or pill, which do you prefer?"
Doctor Dog comes nearer, says she must be bled.
I heard Mother Tabbyskins screaming in her bed.
Very fast very fast scuffling out and in, Doctor Dog looks full and queer
Where is Tabbyskin?
I will tell the moral without any fuss:
Those who lead the young astray always suffer thus.
Very nice, very nice let our conduct be.
For all doctors are not mice, some are dogs, you see.
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