’Tis pretty well, and then ’tis lasting wear; 70
And what is fashion?—if a woman’s wise,
She will the substance, not the shadow, prize;
’Tis a choice silk; and, if I put it on,
Off go these ugly trappings every one.”
The dress is worn; a friendly smile is raised,
But the good lady for her courage praised—
Till wonder dies.—The dress is worn with pride,
And not one trapping yet is cast aside.
Meanwhile the man his six-day toil renews;