|
The poem
Macavity - The Mystery Cat by T S Eliot
Macavity's a Mystery Cat: he's called the Hidden
Paw--
For he's the master criminal who can defy the Law.
He's the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the Flying
Squad's despair:
For when they reach the scene of crime--Macavity's
not there!
Macavity, Macavity, there's no on like Macavity,
He's broken every human law, he breaks the law of
gravity.
His powers of levitation would make a fakir stare,
And when you reach the scene of crime--Macavity's
not there!
You may seek him in the basement, you may look up in
the air--
But I tell you once and once again, Macavity's not
there!
Macavity's a ginger cat, he's very tall and thin;
You would know him if you saw him, for his eyes are
sunken in.
His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is
highly doomed;
His coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are
uncombed.
He sways his head from side to side, with movements
like a snake;
And when you think he's half asleep, he's always
wide awake.
Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,
For he's a fiend in feline shape, a monster of
depravity.
You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in
the square--
But when a crime's discovered, then Macavity's not
there!
He's outwardly respectable. (They say he cheats at
cards.)
And his footprints are not found in any file of
Scotland Yard's.
And when the larder's looted, or the jewel-case is
rifled,
Or when the milk is missing, or another Peke's been
stifled,
Or the greenhouse glass is broken, and the trellis
past repair--
Ay, there's the wonder of the thing! Macavity's not
there!
And when the Foreign Office finds a Treaty's gone
astray,
Or the Admiralty lose some plans and drawings by the
way,
There may be a scap of paper in the hall or on the
stair--
But it's useless of investigate--Macavity's not
there!
And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret
Service say:
"It must have been Macavity!"--but he's a mile away.
You'll be sure to find him resting, or a-licking of
his thumbs,
Or engaged in doing complicated long division sums.
Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macacity,
There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and
suavity.
He always has an alibit, or one or two to spare:
And whatever time the deed took place--MACAVITY
WASN'T THERE!
And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds
are widely known
(I might mention Mungojerrie, I might mention
Griddlebone)
Are nothing more than agents for the Cat who all the
time
Just controls their operations: the Napoleon of
Crime!
|
