From the Evening Star, July 1, 1914. By Philander Johnson.
A collar built to suffocate;
A hat that seems a leaden weight;
A shirt and over that a coat
To shed each cool wave set afloat;
Suspenders which are far from light,
Or else a belt pulled safe and tight—
In these suffering man so neat
Goes forth to battle with the heat.
A filmy cloud of rustling lace,
That floats along with clinging grace;
A bit of color, which the breeze
May toss about with buoyant ease—
The man stands by and gasps for air
And then exclaims while gazing there
On comfortable loveliness,
“How foolishly those women dress!”
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