THE WHISTLE-MAN
The Whistle Man is playing A little tune so sweet. All the time he’s straying Up and down the street. The motor cars go rushing, The people pass along, But no one dreams of hushing To hear his tiny song. It’s only when the roaring Of traffic dwindles down The silver notes go soaring About the ears of town. Tnen magic sweet ana airy His music grows and grows, Perhaps he is a fairy, the whistle Man— Who knows? (Sent by George Smith, age 11.)
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/THD19391216.2.97.18
Bibliographic details
Timaru Herald, Volume CXLVII, Issue 21529, 16 December 1939, Page 21 (Supplement)
Word Count
87THE WHISTLE-MAN Timaru Herald, Volume CXLVII, Issue 21529, 16 December 1939, Page 21 (Supplement)
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