| |
| SHE sits in a fashionable parlor, | |
| And rocks in her easy chair; | |
| She is clad in silks and satins, | |
| And jewels are in her hair; | |
| She winks and giggles and simpers, | 5 |
| And simpers and giggles and winks; | |
| And though she talks but little, | |
| ’T is a good deal more than she thinks. | |
| |
| She lies abed in the morning | |
| Till nearly the hour of noon, | 10 |
| Then comes down snapping and snarling | |
| Because she was called so soon; | |
| Her hair is still in papers, | |
| Her cheeks still fresh with paint,— | |
| Remains of her last night’s blushes, | 15 |
| Before she intended to faint. | |
| |
| She dotes upon men unshaven, | |
| And men with “flowing hair”; | |
| She’s eloquent over mustaches, | |
| They give such a foreign air. | 20 |
| She talks of Italian music, | |
| And falls in love with the moon; | |
| And, if a mouse were to meet her, | |
| She would sink away in a swoon. | |
| |
| Her feet are so very little, | 25 |
| Her hands are so very white, | |
| Her jewels so very heavy, | |
| And her head so very light; | |
| Her color is made of cosmetics | |
| (Though this she will never own), | 30 |
| Her body is mostly of cotton, | |
| Her heart is wholly of stone. | |
| |
| She falls in love with a fellow | |
| Who swells with a foreign air; | |
| He marries her for her money, | 35 |
| She marries him for his hair! | |
| One of the very best matches,— | |
| Both are well-mated in life; | |
| She’s got a fool for a husband, | |
| He’s got a fool for a wife! | 40 |
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