  On the top of the world, where there’s lots of snow, As all the geographies say, A small Eskimo, just to make the time go, Was building a Snow Man one day. Now it happened by chance that two Polar Bears Came strolling along that way: “Perhaps it is none of our affairs, But what are you making?” said they. “A Snow Man, of course,” said the Eskimo; The Bears gave a comical stare; Why on earth don’t you make a Snow Bear?” He sat himself down for a moment to think Of some suitable sort of reply, When a Penguin, two Foxes, a Seal, and a Mink, And a Walrus came wandering by. They stopped just a casual look to take, A casual word to say, And each had a trifling suggestion to make In a patronizing way. The Walrus said, “Really, it isn’t half bad, And shows lots of promise, you know; Yet I think, for my part, though perhaps it’s a fad, A Snow Walrus were more apropos.” The Foxes, the Seal, and the Mink were afraid They knew little of art, so they said, But they thought he would show better taste if he made A Fox, Seal, or Mink in its stead. The Penguin said nothing, nor listened, but when They’d finished, he ventured to say, “It doesn’t look much like a Penguin, but then Perhaps when completed, it may.” They turned then to go; but the Eskimo— Alas! he was seen no more; The heat of his anger and shame and chagrin Had melted the snow where the crust was thin, And he’d sunk, so to speak, through the floor. |
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