At a recent agrioult/ural dinner a eon of the plough had the honour of sitting beside a young titled lady, a friend! of the squire,. and while he was extolling on some feature connected with turnips, or something in that line, he upset a plate of tomato soup on his fair neighbour's white silk dress. She kejpt down an impatient exclamation, and simply remarked, "What a pity." The yokel* looked at the great red stains, and, with a resigned sigh, he saia, "Ah, it doan't matter. I doan't like that stuff, amrkriLir. "
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Bibliographic details
Star (Christchurch), Issue 7891, 22 December 1903, Page 3
Word Count
92Untitled Star (Christchurch), Issue 7891, 22 December 1903, Page 3
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