A WIRELESS MESSAGE.
They were standing at the front door, and he had just said good-night for the seventeenth consecutive time, when a gruff voice was wafted down from the head of the stairs. “Going home, young man?” queried the party behind the aforesaid voice. “Y-yes, sir,” stammered the lovelorn youth in the good-night scene. “All-right,” said the gruff voice; “1 wish you would stop and tell the butcher to send us up some lamb chops for lunch. Good-morning.”
The Irate Lady: “You miserable blackguards! You kept me awake all night with your roystering.” Mynheer Von Boozevant: “That’s mighty strange, egad! We put live of our companions to sleep.”
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZGRAP19040319.2.136.6
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXII, Issue XII, 19 March 1904, Page 68
Word Count
109A WIRELESS MESSAGE. New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXII, Issue XII, 19 March 1904, Page 68
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Acknowledgements
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