A SERMON.

Manawatu Herald, Volume XLIII, Issue 2293, 23 June 1921, Page 1

A SERMON.

BY THE POET LOW-RATE.

Little girl, you look so small, Don’t you wear no clothes at all? Don’t you wear no shimmy-shirt, Don’t you wear no pctty-skirt, Just your corsets and your hose Are those all your underclothes'? Little girl, what is the cause Why your clothes is made of gauze ? Don’t you wear no undervest When you go out fully dressed? With your skirts cut rattier high Won’t you catch a cold and die? Little girl, your ’spenders show When the sunlight plays on you I can see your tinted flesh Through your little gown of mesh. Little girl, 1 tell you those Ain’t so nice as underclothes. Little girl, your socks has shoals Of those little tiny holes. Why you want to show your limb ] don’t know —is it a whim? Do you want to catch the eye Of each feller passin’ by? Little girl, now listen, here, You would he just twice as dear If you’d cover up your charms, Neck, back, logs and both your arms. 1 would lake you to the shows If you’d wear some underclothes. Little girl, your mystery Luring charm and modesty, Is what makes us fellers keen To possess a little queen; But no lover—goodness knows— Wants a girl sans underclothes. 1 must wear a coat of mail Clothe' from head to big toe-nail, I mast cover up my form Even when the weather’s warm; Can’t enjoy the swimmer’s throes 'Less I garb in underclothes. —Personality.