“Now, dearest Fred,” she softly said,
“You must abandon smoking;
It spoils your looks—and then your breath,—
Indeed it’s most provoking.
Did God decree that man should be
A chimney flue regarded?
Then, darling Fred, let it be said,
Tobacco you’ve discarded.”
“Haw, well, my dear,” said Fred, “I fear
That will not be so easy;
But, like a man, I’ll try a plan,
And do the best to please ye.
Did God intend that woman’s mind
Such wond’rous things should brew, love,
As Bustles, Bloomers, Crinolines,
Or Hoops-de-dooden-do, love?
“But really, if”—whif, whif, whif, whif,—
“And mind you, I’m not joking,—
If you abandon Crinoline,
By Jove! I—I’ll give up smoking.”