Miss Viola Gwendolyn Gladys Von Schatz Had boxes and boxes of beautiful hats, Trimmed with ribbons, and laces, and buckles, and feathers, For all sorts of places, and all sorts of weathers. There were jet hats, and lace hats, and velvets, and straws, There were hats made of beaver, and hats made of gauze; There were sailors, and beehives, and turbans, and toques, There were gipsies, and Gainsboroughs, mush- rooms, and pokes, With feathers upstanding, and feathers hung down, With flowers on the brim, and with flowers on the crown. Yet, what do you think? Miss Von Schatz would declare, In petulant tones, she had no hat to wear! She tried on a blue one, then tossed it aside, Exclaiming, “That brim is six inches too wide!”
Then an emerald green she decided to try, But threw it off, pouting, “That crown is too high!” The brown was too dark, and the pink was too light; The purple too dull, and the scarlet too bright. The white one had no style at all, she declared; And the black cavalier had its brim too much flared. She tried on a lovely “crushed strawberry” straw, But flung it off hastily, crying, “Oh, pshaw! Those trimmings don’t suit me! Those shapes are not right! I won’t wear a hat that just makes me a fright!” She tossed the hats angrily up on a shelf;— But I think the faults were all due to herself. Her hats were becoming, both narrow and shady, But her temper was quite unbecoming a lady. The hats fitted finely, both large ones and small; But her comment on them was not fitting at all. And to judge by the unpleasant things that she said, The trouble was inside, not outside, her head.
