So Peter fetched a bath-tub, and Wallaby fetched a kettle of nice hot water, and Polly marched along singing cheerily: “He’s got to be washed! Oh, my! He’s got to be washed." Still “wowing” sadly, Richard crept after them. “No, soap, Peter,” he begged. “It gets into 'my eyes.” “Soap for you, my lad, and plenty of it,” announced Peter firmly. “Come on, it’ll soon be over.”
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Bibliographic details
Nelson Evening Mail, Volume LXIV, 21 February 1931, Page 11
Word Count
67So Peter fetched a bath-tub, and Wallaby fetched a kettle of nice hot water, and Polly marched along singing cheerily: “He’s got to be washed! Oh, my! He’s got to be washed." Still “wowing” sadly, Richard crept after them. “No, soap, Peter,” he begged. “It gets into 'my eyes.” “Soap for you, my lad, and plenty of it,” announced Peter firmly. “Come on, it’ll soon be over.” Nelson Evening Mail, Volume LXIV, 21 February 1931, Page 11
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