And then you’ll find we all are gone
With other little girls
Who like our style, our pretty clothes,
Our lovely flowing curls.
Sailor Doll (stepping to front and motioning rest to be still):
She’s right. I know, for I am wise;
Although it is to my surprise
She shows such sense, for little girls
Are always pleased by silly curls.
They fail to see, ’neath raiment gay