Father came dowstairs carrying his jacket over his arm. He looked hard at his wife and then at his son. “That boy has taken money from my pocket,” he stormed. “Henry,” she ejaculated, “how can you say that? Why, it might have been me.” Father shook his head. “No, my dear,” he replied, “it wasn’t you There was some left.”
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Mt Benger Mail, 27 October 1937, Page 2
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60Untitled Mt Benger Mail, 27 October 1937, Page 2
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