THE SONG OF THE SKIRT.

Otago Witness, Issue 2490, 4 December 1901, Page 66

THE SONG OF THE SKIRT.

With firgcrs weary ancl cramped, And a wrist that was stiff with pain, A lady walked, m a Paris gown, Down King street in the ram. Splafh! Splash! Splash! Through puddle and slush and dirt. And halt to herself, vi a sobbing tone, She sang this "Song of the Skirt" ;

" For fashion's sake," she moaned, "Full many a cross bear we; Like abject slaves we bow To her every new decree; But of all the cruel modes With which we women are cursed, Our walking gown, with its trailing train, Methmks is by far the worst. '" Sweep! Sweep' Sweep! Where the waste of the street lies thick; Sweep! Sweep! Sweep! However our path we pick; Dust, bacilhis, and germ, . Germ, bacillus, and dust, Till we shudder and turn from the sorry sight With a gesture of disgust. < " O, men, with sisters dear! O, men, who have well-dressed wives, It is not alone an expensive mode. It is one that hp^rc!"* lives! "or malignant microbes swarm In the buturtued dir v . And the dress that sweeps it up may provg A shroud as well as a skirt! '' Sweep ! Sweep ! Sweep ! As we walk o'er the West End flags, For however we try to carry that tail, A part of it always sags, The hem of it always drops In the winter's dreary slush ; The hem of it sweeps the summer's dust More clean than the dustman's brush. '"Drag l Drag! Drag! Whatever our strength or health, We have all to draw that heavy train, Whatever our rank or wealthWhatever the dress has cost, Fashion's laws we dare not shirk; Old and young alike we must daily do The scavengers dirty work.

" Oh, for one hour of ease, As I shop in the ciowded street — With no drag upon my knees, And no pull about my feet! For only one short hour To be as I used to be, When I wore a skirt of sensible length, Which left my ankles free! " Oh ! but for one short houi — A respite, however brief. Till my Christmas shopping at least is done, And fiom ram we've some relief! The so-called rational dress Possesses for me no charms, Yet in days like this I could willingly rush. Into Lady Hai-berton's arms. "As I feel the distressing strain O£ my tiain on my aching wrist, I ccmlcl well nigh vow henceforth Fashion's edict to resist. When I sec what my hem's swept up, Though in walking I'm so expert, ■ >i ' ory much more than half inclined xo i,uve hojie and ttirn my skht!" With fingeis weary ancl damped, With a wrist that was stiff with pain, A lady shopped, in a Paris gown, In King street, in the ram.

Splash! Splash! Splash! On she swept thiouah the slush and tli» dnt; And still with a voice of dolorous pitch — Would that its tones could reach the rick— » SM /saqg this "Sons ©I ike Skirt!' 1