  BEHIND an Eiffel bonnet I sat one matinÉe, And, oh, the feathers on it Completely hid the play, Because that Eiffel bonnet Kept bobbing in my way. That awful Eiffel bonnet, It blotted out the scene And all the people on it Just like a giant screen: It was the sort of bonnet You couldn’t see between. The wearer of that bonnet Between two friends she sat, And swayed (and hence this sonnet) Now this way and now that, And bent her head and bonnet With either side to chat. To left she moved her bonnet, I bent my head to right The stage to look upon it; But ere I had a sight, Back came that Eiffel bonnet And blotted out the light. O awful Eiffel bonnet That towers to the sky! If ladies still will don it, ’Twill happen by-and-by, “Down with that Eiffel bonnet!” Poor playgoers will cry. To see a swaying bonnet We don’t go to the play, ’Tis not to gaze upon it Our ten-and-six we pay— So d—— the Eiffel bonnet That damns the matinÉe! |
|
