Classic Poem

" Bring me a tiny mouse's skin, "
The boisterous tanner cried;
" It must be as a rose-leaf thin
And scarce three fingers wide. "

He seized the fragile, tiny bit
Within his brawny hand,
And cast it in the seething pit,
And so the skin was tann'd.

Then came a cobbler to his side
With tools that cobblers use,
And deft they wrought that mouse's hide
Into a pair of shoes.

" Tell me, " I asked, " O cobbler, tell
For whom these morceaux be? "
" A lover bade me build them well
For his true love, " quoth he.

" Where dwells this maid with fairy feet? "
In wonderment I cried;
The old man shifted in his seat —
" Chicago, " he replied.