A TRAM TRIUMPH.
The rain poured down in melancholy sheets, the tram car was packed, and a baby, probably feeling the depressing influence of the weather, whined incessantly. “Why can’t you keep that child quiet?” growled the grumpy passenger. The mother bent over her darling, but replied not. Then a thin but distinct voice from nowhere in particular cried: “He thinks your face is the moon, and he’s crying for it!”
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZGRAP19030627.2.92.3
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXX, Issue XXVI, 27 June 1903, Page 1836
Word Count
71A TRAM TRIUMPH. New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXX, Issue XXVI, 27 June 1903, Page 1836
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Acknowledgements
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