An Eskimo Baby

If you were an Eskimo baby

You'd live in a bag all day.

Right up from your toes

To the tip of your nose,

All in thick cosy furs tucked away.

And if you went out for an airing

In mothers warm hood you would go,

Tied close to her back

Like a soft furry pack,

You could laugh at the cold and snow.

But if they brought water at bedtime-

As people at home always do-

You'd cough and you'd sneeze

And perhaps you would freeze,

You would certainly turn very blue!

An Eskimo mummy would rub you

With oil from your heels to your head.

And then you'd be rolled

(For its terribly cold)

In warm furs, and put safely to bed.

No nice creamy milk for your supper,

But bits of raw blubber and fat!

Would you like to go

To the land of the snow,

Where they have such a bedtime as that?

Lucy Diamond