But one crooked female you might chance to meet,
To-day there existed a hundred at least,
Who made up a pantomime, truly a feast
Of color and form, to him who delights
In fine graceful contours and that sort of sights;
And yet it is proper that I should confess
(For to know “what is what” I did never profess),
The sight of curved females at first raised a question
Which seemed to me worthy some solid reflection.
The question was this: if ’tis true as averred,