MOTHER FUR

I wonder what charm there can be in fur?

The kitten curls up and begins to purr,

The puppy tumbles about in the rug

In his silly way and gives it a hug,

And mousekin, that even a shadow can scare,

For a moment lies still in the long, soft hair

Then slips away to its home in the wall.

Can it be — poor darlings! that each and all

Believe‘ tis their mother, and hasten to her?

All babies, I think, love old Mother Fur;

For my little brother — too little to speak —

See how he nestles his peach-blossom cheek

In the velvet coat that the tiger wore,

As it lies stretched out at length on the floor!

Tiger, if you were alive — dear me!

I shudder to think how cruel you'd be.

No doubt in your day you did harm enough,

But now you're safe as my tippet or muff!

You, too, I will call ( since you never can stir )

Old Mother Fur, kind Mother Fur!