We'd like to tell you a story about a young girl, about eighteen years old, about five feet two, and about to go out. Now, her Mother, realising it was her first time out with a young man, called her into the bedroom and said, "Minnie, you're all dressed up in your finery, your very best clothes, and you look beautiful, you're gorgeous, you're alluring (you look swell, baby), and now Minnie I want you to remember everything I've always told you, and above all I want you to be very, very careful.....
But she had to go and lose it at the Astor She didn't take her mother's good advice. Now there aren't so many girls today who have one And she'd never let it go for any price
They searched the place from penthouse to the cellar In every room and underneath each bed. Once they thought they saw it lying on a pillow But they found it belonged to someone else instead.
But she had to go and lose it at the Astor, She didn't know exactly whom to blame And she couldn't say just how or when she lost it She only knew she had it when she came.
They questioned all the bellboys and the porter The chef appeared to be the guilty guy And the doorman also acted quite suspicious But he coyly said, "I'm sure it wasn't I"
But she had to go and lose it at the Astor It nearly killed her mother and her dad Now they felt as bad about the thing as she did After all it was the only one she had
They just about completed all their searching When the chauffeur walked up with it in his hand All they did was stand and gape, there was Minnie's sable cape, And she thought that she had lost it at the Astor.