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Easing a Grouch

From the Omaha Daily Bee, December 9, 1912.

 A yard or two of stuff that’s called a skirt,
     A waist that’s made of some expensive lace,
 A pair of shoes that are so tight they hurt,
     Some padding out in just the proper place,
 A hat that costs nine times what it is worth;
     A peck or two of someone else’s hair;
 A complexion bought most anywhere on earth,
     A corset that is too tight everywhere,
 A bundle of artistic temperament,
     A flow of conversation that is light,
 A passing whiff of some delicious scent,
     A show of vanity from morn till night—
         And that’s a woman.
 A bag of wind inflated without cause;
     A blowhard and an ardent egotist
 Who knows more than the ones who made the laws;
     A set of teeth, a mustache and a fist;
 Some shoulders that are padded out of shape;
     A smell of burned tobacco that is stale;
 A blossom on the nose from festive grape;
     Some stories that make modest folk turn pale;
 A punk cigar that sizzles all day long;
     A thing whose chiefest aim is just to eat;
 A party who is right, all others wrong,
     Who’s always 99 per cent conceit—
         And that’s a man.

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