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!