Mrs. Williams

I was the milliner         Talked about, lied about,         Mother of Dora,         Whose strange disappearance         Was charged to her rearing.         My eye quick to beauty         Saw much beside ribbons         And buckles and feathers         And leghorns and felts,         To set off sweet faces,         And dark hair and gold.         One thing I will tell you         And one I will ask:         The stealers of husbands         Wear powder and trinkets,         And fashionable hats.         Wives, wear them yourselves.         Hats may make divorces -         They also prevent them.         Well now, let me ask you:         If all of the children, born here in Spoon River         Had been reared by the         County, somewhere on a farm;         And the fathers and mothers had been given their freedom         To live and enjoy, change mates if they wished,         Do you think that Spoon River         Had been any the worse?