Mister Powgli was a practical cat
Straight off the page of an Eliot rap.
When he took water, he took some to spare,
Storing it there – on the crest of his chin:
A watery globule stuck on his hair.
As it plashed on your pants, Mowgli just grinned
And lapped up the spill – that practical cat!
He slept not a wink, all throughout the night,
Because when the men made lumpy the mat –
That – my friends, that! – was the best time to fight!
He hunted, and stalked, and laid out the sponge,
Clobbered his brother all over the house,
Tore pieces of bread into piles of crumbs,
And often mistook a tail for a mouse.
When the sun shone all the messes he’d made
And his brother still stirred, seeking revenge,
Mowgli appeared on the sill to have stayed.
While brother was punished with mild derange,
He deftly avoided swift Justice’s bat.
Mowgli Powgli was a practical cat.