There was a little girl, 

Who had a little curl 

She also dressed in the height of fashion

In fact they say this was her passion.

Every morning she would pose

By the mirror in her brand new clothes

Tossing her tresses in the air

Preening herself without a care. 

She would skip down to the breakfast table

To eat an egg if she was able.

Her vanity meant she hardly ate

“They cause a wrinkle!” she would berate

Her mother worried about this girl

Who was so cute with her little curl

But fretted that she would become

No wider than her mother’s thumb.