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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.”

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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
109

A WIRELESS MESSAGE. New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXII, Issue XII, 19 March 1904, Page 68

A WIRELESS MESSAGE. New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXII, Issue XII, 19 March 1904, Page 68