I pause and watch the boats pass by,
And paint her portrait on the sly!

Her age is twelve, half bold, half coy --
Her friends all call her "Sailor-Boy" --
With sweet brown eyes beyond compare,
And close-cropped, curling, sunny hair;
Her smart straw hat you'll notice, and
See "Jennie" embroidered on the band,
Her sailor's knot, and lanyard too,
With jersey trim of navy blue;
Her short serge frock distinctly shows
Well shapen legs in sable hose
And symphonies in needlework,
Where dimpled pearly shadows lurk --
Which, as she swings her skirts, you note
Peep out beneath her petticoat.
This sunburnt baby dives and floats,
She manages canoes and boats;
Can steer and scull, can reef or row,
Or punt or paddle, fish or tow.
The lithest lass you e'er could see
In all Short-petticoaterie!