It Was Wet.
The young man was strolling up and down outside the park waiting for his girl. Getting tired, he leaned against the railings, which, he discovered to his horror, were freshly painted. Farther down the road he saw the painter still busy. Going up to him, he said, indignantly:
“Here, why don’t you put ‘Wet paint on these railings?”
The painter looked at him and said “Why, I be doin’ that, bain’t I-’’
“Never ask your husband for money,” counselled the old married woman.
"I never have to,” retorted the young bride, proudly. “Charlie’s such a darling. He sleeps like a baby all night long.”
Said the teacher; “A tyrant is a ruler that is hated and feared. Now, give me a sentence with the word in it.”
“The teacher struck the pupil with her tyrant,” ventured one boy.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/CROMARG19370823.2.31
Bibliographic details
Cromwell Argus, Volume LXVIII, Issue 3483, 23 August 1937, Page 7
Word Count
141It Was Wet. Cromwell Argus, Volume LXVIII, Issue 3483, 23 August 1937, Page 7
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