A BAD TRUTH.
We loved her for her witching ways (She always acted so discreetly), And won my lady mother’s praise, By dressing quietly and neatly. Her occupation, as we guessed, Was governess to low-bred City People with oof, and all the rest, And voted ’twas an awful pity. Each Sunday twice she went to church (And so did I, but that’s digression), I left all pleasure in the lurch To watch her Qua Ker-like expression. And really I can recollect The way I lingered, thrilled with pleasure, At thoughts of walks with her. Reflect, I thought her quite a perfect treasure Until the fatal moment when My blissful moments found dispersal. We met one morning (just on ten). And she was going— to rehearsal. ‘ Rehearsal where?’ I asked, aghast, Without a feeling of frivolity. ‘ The theatre,’ she said at last, ‘ I’m in the first row at the “ Jollity.” ’
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZGRAP18930603.2.45.2
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Graphic, Volume X, Issue 22, 3 June 1893, Page 528
Word Count
149A BAD TRUTH. New Zealand Graphic, Volume X, Issue 22, 3 June 1893, Page 528
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Acknowledgements
This material was digitised in partnership with Auckland Libraries. You can find high resolution images on Kura Heritage Collections Online.