The small boy walked into the surgery of the village dootor, and, marching up to him, whispered very confidentially, "Please, sir, mother sent me to say how our Linie'- got ic»rl»,tm«. *wful bsy,(.n_l the wants to know how mush you'll five h»r- to iprt-d it _U over- th» vi___*-«"
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Bibliographic details
Evening Post, Volume XCVII, Issue 56, 8 March 1919, Page 10
Word Count
49Untitled Evening Post, Volume XCVII, Issue 56, 8 March 1919, Page 10
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