Helen, did that young man smoko- in tho parlor last night? I found burnt mutches there.” ‘‘Oil, no, father; he just lit one or two to see what time* u was.” Hie plumage was snowy, his beak was pink; His beadlike eves wore as black as ink; Ho shone like a star In the noontide glow— A wonderful, snow-white, croaking crow I As be couldn't sing what he had to say. Ho croaked and croaked in a crow-like way— Like a child with croupy cold to endure, Croaking tor Woods’ Peppermint Cure. — [AMLg
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Bibliographic details
Evening Star, Issue 18669, 25 June 1924, Page 1
Word Count
93Page 1 Advertisements Column 7 Evening Star, Issue 18669, 25 June 1924, Page 1
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