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She was a big, buxom lass, and when her small beau called one evening she said, “ Good evening, Lily. ” “ I’m no lily,” he replied, surprised at the idea ; “you’re the lily, men are not lilies.” “Yes, sometimes they are ; and you especially are a lily.” “How’s that?’ “ Lilliputian.” He then looked as if he wished he were an elephant;

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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/AG18810312.2.15.4

Bibliographic details

Page 2 Advertisements Column 4, Ashburton Guardian, Volume 2, Issue 291, 12 March 1881

Word Count
59

Page 2 Advertisements Column 4 Ashburton Guardian, Volume 2, Issue 291, 12 March 1881

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