Article.

THE FIEND NEXT DOOR.

Observer, Volume 27, 27 November 1894, Page 7

 

THE FIEND NEXT DOOR.

Each morning, evening and noon. He's played for many moons ; And though he's always out of tune. He's never out of tunes. " What sort of a girl is she ?"' " Oh, she is a miss with a mission." •' Ah!" " And her mission is seeking a man with a mansion."' We are making such strides in science, that, after awhile, we shall have cocoanuts containing sterilised milk.

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