Classic Poem

The white wolves belled on the ermine's trail
'Way up in the heart of the heartless north.
The ermine must haste ere his strength should fail;
In spite of the danger, he hurried forth.
He saw some food in a tempting cache;
He hastened to gulp it and hurry on—
Two jaws of a demon of steel went “Smash!”
And the animal's hope of life was gone!
A white man came ere the wolves might come,
And he carried that ermine's peltry home.
Milady she wears it with joy and pride,
Not caring a whit how the ermine died!
(He had tugged at the trap for hours—ha, ha!
Had struggled with all of his powers—la, la!
So laugh as you wear your furs, ma chère,
Laugh as you flaunt your furs!)

The small boy placed by the meadow creek
A steel trap held by a long strong chain.
For there the muskrats, he knew, would seek
Their nightly food—might they seek in vain!
A muskrat came, and the jaws went “Crunch!”
And the night—ah, the cruel night was young!
He gnawed at his leg—'twas a hideous lunch!—
But the terrible trap-jaws clung and clung.
The little lad at the dawning came,
(He was kind when he wasn't in search of “game”);
He ripped from his victim the velvet hide,
For milady's wardrobe must be supplied!
(He had writhed in the grisly grip—ha, ha!
Nearly gnawed off his leg at the hip—la, la!
So merrily wear your furs, ma chère,
Merrily wear your furs!)