ON PRAMS.
Every day, when the weather’s fine, The prams go by in endless line. I ranis of brown, and prams of blue, Koinily prams, and prams brand new. And pushing the ora ms along the stnet Are trudging mothers with weary feet; While in every pram, it is quaint to know, Ts a man or woman in embryo. A few more years, and each will be A doctor or clerk or wise M l’.. Perhaps a Professor in cap and gown. Perhaps a Lord Mayor of London Town And if they are baby girls why, then. They are the future mothers of men. O babies, whatever in time you are, Whether you foot it or keep your car, Remember that once >ou rode the street l ushed by a mother with weary feet. And whatever heights you may reach some day. She gave you the hist push on your way. P. Noel Saxelby.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/WHIRIB19230818.2.30
Bibliographic details
White Ribbon, Volume 29, Issue 338, 18 August 1923, Page 15
Word Count
154ON PRAMS. White Ribbon, Volume 29, Issue 338, 18 August 1923, Page 15
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