Not long ago at a certain prist office the telegraphist took a message which read : "Gwendoline, will you be mine?" It was delivered to the proper party, and soon she came tripping into the office to write her reply. It read :" Yes. Yes. Yea. Yes. Yeß. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes." Ten words, you see, and she paid her sixpence, and tripped out of the room with the sweetest kind of a blush,
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Page 3 Advertisements Column 3, Evening Star, Issue 10471, 15 November 1897
Page 3 Advertisements Column 3 Evening Star, Issue 10471, 15 November 1897
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