all the temerity of ignorance, "not in anger, but in the way of philosophic inquiry and examination."
"As curious as the kittens erst had been,
To learn what this phenomenon might mean."
Cowper, who always made a point of looking at things before he described them, which habit enabled him to convince eighteenth century readers that there was such a thing as Nature, watched the three kittens gathered close around the viper, regarding him with polite attention, and speculating innocently on his possibilities as a playmate.
"Forth from his head his forkèd tongue he throws,
Darting it full against a kitten's nose;
Who, never having seen in field or house
The like, sat still and silent as a mouse;
Only projecting, with attention due,
Her whiskered face, she asked him, 'Who are you?'"
He also watched on more than one occasion their sedate and serious parent, the "Retired Cat," who loved, like himself, a quiet corner in which to sit and think.
"I know not where she caught the trick,—
Nature perhaps herself had cast her
In such a mould philosophique,
Or else she learned it of her Master.
Sometimes ascending, débonnaire,
An apple-tree, or lofty pear,
Lodged with convenience in the fork,
She watched the gardener at his work;
