CLEVER KID.
Little Frank, yellow of hair and blue of eyes, was the apple of his fathers eye.
One sunny afternoon, when all was drowsily peaceful, a rough-looking individual seized little Frankie by the hair. “’Ere, nipper, where’s yer muvver?” “Out!” gasped Jthe frightened kid. “Well, then, look ’ere, if yer don’t tell me where yer ole man keeps his money I’ll give you beans, an’ after that I’ll eat yer.” “Oh, please let go my hair,” whimpered Frankie. “You’ll find all the money we’ve got in an old waistcoat in the kitchen ” Three—no, two minutes later a battered .and tattered individual came headlong and with force through the door of Frankie’s house. He landed in the ditch, his locks clinging to the hedgerow. Little Frankie’s blue eyes surveyed him over the garden gate. “Mighty smart kid, ain’t yer?” said the bruised one. “Never said a word about yer.ole man being in that wesldt!”
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WAIPO19140901.2.16
Bibliographic details
Waipa Post, Volume VIII, Issue 345, 1 September 1914, Page 3
Word Count
154CLEVER KID. Waipa Post, Volume VIII, Issue 345, 1 September 1914, Page 3
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