  Once there was a little girl, But she didn't have a curl, Though she had an Easter bonnet With ostrich plumes and flowers on it, Since like her mother she aspired À la mode to be attired. But when she rose on Easter morn With deepest grief her heart was torn, For, oh, alas! the rain was falling In torrents great; to her appalling, As well she knew 'twould spoil her bonnet With ostrich plumes and flowers on it. Her hair in papers she had worn The whole night through and tortures borne In hopes to have a curl or two To wear beneath her bonnet new. But now, alas, the horrid rain And so with fear of straightened hair, Which might cause folks to laugh and stare, And likewise to protect her bonnet With ostrich plumes and flowers on it, She thought it best to stay away From Sabbath school on Easter day. |
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