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!