NORAH'S REMONSTRANCE.
Now, Terence, have done wid yer tasing, Do you be aisj , and let me alone ; It's the skin from me finders ye're squeezing ; Sure ye think they're as hard as ye're own ! I'm worried to death wid yer prating, And frightened clane out of me life ; So pray don't be idly consating You'll ever catch me for a wife. What is it you say I—that1 — that I'm joking ? That you won't budge an inch from my Bide T Indeed, now, ye're mighty provoking, And I dont know which way to decide.
I'm just like the bird that the fowler Is coaxing down into his snare ; Och, Terence ! ye sly scheminsr prowler, Ye're hunting my lips, I declare ! Leave off, sir. How dare you to do it ! * I suppose, as ye will have yer way, I'd better, (but mind me, yell rue it !) Plase yer whim by just naming the day. Don't think it's for love I'm consenting — Och, murther ! ye're stopping me breath— But only in hope of preventing Meself being bothered to death.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/OW18770414.2.66.2
Bibliographic details
Otago Witness, Issue 1324, 14 April 1877, Page 19
Word Count
176NORAH'S REMONSTRANCE. Otago Witness, Issue 1324, 14 April 1877, Page 19
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