THE BOOK I LOVE.
Wc walked along the country lanes, The twelve-year-old- and I, He talked of cricket, while I felt Both ignorant and sly; I don’t know what they call ‘ 1 the slips,” But never let that pass my lips.
At last he turned to books, he spoke Of pirate spy and feud, Of slippery decks and rusty dirks, Of Villains livid-liued. Then “What’s your favourite book?” he saiu. [ stammered, blushed, and hung my head. *
I dared not tell that boy the truth, I know its shame myself, For neither poetry nor prose Is monarch of my shelf; Above all tales of love or quest £ prize the old. worn atlas best.
Its pages seem to smell of salt, . Of spice and tropic flowers, Tt rings with bulls and shanty tunes, I pore on it foi hours. A girl must stay at home, but here, My dreams have cruised for many a vear.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/HAWST19251107.2.130
Bibliographic details
Hawera Star, Volume XLV, 7 November 1925, Page 20
Word Count
153THE BOOK I LOVE. Hawera Star, Volume XLV, 7 November 1925, Page 20
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