At Coney Island by Carolyn Wells
See proud Belinda smartly dressed
In all her flaunting Sunday best;
With muslin hat and ruffles big
She cannot comfortably dig.
Ask her if she would like to play,–
She will not answer either way;
She’ll only shake herself, and then,
Just pout and grin and pout again.
Dear Grandams, meekly learn from this,
How very ill-advised it is
To don a costume fine and grand
When you go playing in the sand.
Instead of your bespangled net,
Or moire velvet edged with jet,
Just wear a gingham, simply made,
So you can tuck it up and wade.