Two little hands and a piece of string;
Twist it and turn it while mother will sing.
Here is a cradle for kitties to rock;
But it's time for the breakfast bell, look at the clock.
Twist it again, and the table is spread.
Now, little kitties, jump out of your bed!
Come to the table and sit up like men.
But see, a new twist. Table's vanished again.
Now it's a line for the washing to dry.
Lift up your hands, so the clothes will hang high;
Bring out the clothes-pins and fasten them neatly.
Never did wash-women look half so sweetly.
After such hard work a frolic is earned.
See what will come when the string's again turned!
"Puss in the corner," with goals all complete;
Five pussies playing, each eager to beat.
But even "Cat's Cradle" gets tiresome at last;
Abed for the children! for play-time is past.
Tuck them in warmly and let them both sleep.
The crib is a cat's cradle too. Only peep!
From Youth's Companion, 1890.
