She peered through the window
Of the shop on the square
At all the poor creatures
Imprisoned in there

And wondered who'd loved them,
If they'd run away
Or been stolen by strangers,
Now doomed here to stay.

She gazed at the kittens
In the cage by the door,
Then mustered her courage
And entered the store.

"I've only one dollar,"
She informed the young clerk,
"If that's not enough, why . . .
Perhaps I could work?"

He thought for a moment
Then looked up to say,
"One dollar is just what
The price is today."

She gave him her money,
The kittens were hers,
She tenderly stroked them,
They thanked her with purrs.

She left with her treasures . . .
The clerk would convey
That the rest of their value
Should come from his pay.

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