THE JESTER IN THE TRENCH. “That reminds me of a yarn.” he said, And everybody turned to hear his tale. He had a thousand yarns inside his head. They waited for him, ready with And creeping smiles—then suddenly their mirth turned pale, Grew still, and gazed upon the earth: They heard no tale. No further word was said. And with his untold fun. Half leaning on his gun, Tliev left him—dead.
G neat' Reductions in hats a lid sum men costumes at Misses Addison s Til spcNjon in* jfced Advt.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/HOG19180209.2.8.3
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Hokitika Guardian, 9 February 1918, Page 1
Word Count
90Page 1 Advertisements Column 3 Hokitika Guardian, 9 February 1918, Page 1
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