April, April, Laugh thy girlish laughter, Then, the moment after, Weep thy girlish tears!

Too long, that some may rest, Tired millions toil unblest.

But when dread Sloth, the Mother of Doom, steals in, And reigns where Labour's glory was to serve, Then is the day of crumbling not far off.

It doesn't matter if a cat is black or white, as long as it catches mice.

Black cat or white cat, it's a good cat that catches the mice.

His friends he loved. His direst earthly foes-- Cats--I believe he did but feign to hate. My hand will miss the insinuated nose, Mine eyes the tail that wagged contempt at Fate.