Famous Leatherstocking was a mighty hunter,
Like a male Artemis; Freischutz without bullets.
He did slay many a fiend for Minerva;
Slicing their gullets, before burying the hatchets.
He whistled as he skinned the prey he killed,
And wisdom hung about him like thick mist;
He told stories and glorified all the blood spilt,
But never did he mention the few he missed.
There will always be ones like Leatherstocking,
Those who **** for sport, who like to brag.
When there's no prey left and nothing's shocking,
He might hunt down the children who've been bad.
Or that's what they'll say to keep us in line,
For we are the children Minerva left behind.