“Going far, Snag?” asked Wag, as the former shot by him walking like a six-day e pedestrian the first night. “ Don’t know, "came the cheerful response; “dei on that fellow you see chasing me one back, He’s my tailor,”
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Page 4 Advertisements Column 1, Evening Star, Issue 8056, 5 November 1889
Page 4 Advertisements Column 1 Evening Star, Issue 8056, 5 November 1889
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