The Peddler (Female)

Fur-coated, lip-sticked, bleached and water-waved,Mild yet majestic, first she fills the door,Then gently pushes forward with her storeIn large black bag; her purse is gilt engravedWith name, address, so clearly she has saved,From arduous calling, golden bits galore,Safe guarded by a friendly Bank, beforeWhose cautious counter she is well-behaved.Thus no impostor. Well she knows her world,She does but cater to the modern taste,For legs grow long as shorter grows the waist.Silk-stockinged, rayonned, powdered, coiffed and curled,The Modern Miss must go. But it may be--Fur-coated Madam has a his-to-ry!