by
Bertha Ann Dewsnup
I have a new bonnet, I'll go up to Church
To hear the new preacher--young Jonathan.
He is single and handsome--but they say
That his sermons are long and dreadfully dry.
But being a bachelor, I'll try, for his sake
To look interested and keep wide awake.
What a good congregation; I'm glad that I came.
That face is familiar, but, what is her name?
Ah, yes! At the social she sang through her nose.
I wonder if Murry will ever propose?
The choir has finished its opening hymn--
The preacher's too pale, and awfully prim.
His prayers, I think, tedious and proxy and long.
They say that he thinks even dancing is wrong.
What beautiful mantles the Burton girls wear-
I wonder if they really do bleach their hair.
They dress awful stylish and have a front pew.
They say that their father's as rich as a Jew.
Oh, there goes the sermon, I must listen with care!
Oh, hasn't Frank Fields got beautiful hair?
I must catch, if I can, the drift of the text.
I wonder what beau, Bell Lanos will have next?
Oh, me! How I wish the choir would sing!
I'd give something nice for a new diamond ring.
Oh, why don't the preachers all preach to the point--
I've sat here till every bon's out of joint.
Crick in my neck and a pain in my back.
Clare Mary Riley has got a new sack
All lined through with the finest of fur.
Never could see what he fancied in her!
The sermon's progressing--I must listen and learn.
I wish he'd warm up and not look so stern.
Grey, is in mourning, I wonder who's dead.
She'd look swell in black if her hair wasn't red.
The pew right behind is old Deacon Moor.
I don't mind his sleeping, but why does he snore?
Just hear that cross baby. I know Mr. Birch
Must hate so to have it disturbing the Church.
Oh, how can he preach and pray through it all?
They say Maggie Ross was the '1Bell of the ball."
That her dress was just lovely, her dancing define.
But, I wont believe it was better than mine.
The sermon's finished, the Bible is closed,
The collection has awakened the Deacons that dozed.
I must feel in my pocket and get out my dime.
Those boys in the gallery have a good time.
Why, there's Mary Martin! What a beautiful hat.
Pretty she'd be if she wasn't so fat!
Old hundred is finished and I'll get my muff.
I think, for today, I've had preaching enough.
The aisle is so crowded we'll have to go slow.
How she struts in her new polonaise--
Always did hate her impudent ways.
I'll pretend not to see her and turn up my nose,
And show how indifferent I am to the beaux
There's Jennie Jones, opposite, waiting to see
If I had a gentleman come home with me.
Ah, me, I just know pa and ma will be vexed--
For I have forgotten every word of the text!
(written about 1888)