Author Rudyard Kipling There was a small boy of Quebec, Who was buried in snow to his neck; —When they said, “Are you friz?” —He replied, “Yes, I is— But we don't call this cold in Quebec.” Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments