IN THE MORNING.
Sing a song of penitence, A fellow foil of rye ! Four and twenty serpents Danced before his eye. His hat was in the parlour. Underneath a chair, His boots were in the hallway, His coat was on the stair, His trousers in the kitchen, His collar on the shelf, But he hadn’t any notion Where he was at himself. When the morn was breaking, Someone hear<‘ him call; His head was. in the coal-box, And that was best of all.
Jack Sprat.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZGRAP18950302.2.49.14
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Graphic, Volume XIV, Issue IX, 2 March 1895, Page 216
Word Count
85IN THE MORNING. New Zealand Graphic, Volume XIV, Issue IX, 2 March 1895, Page 216
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Acknowledgements
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