CASABIANCT AGAIN.
The hoy stood on the backyard fence, whence all but he had fled, the flames that Jit his father’s barn shone just about, the sited. One bunch of crackers in his hand, two others in hat, with piteous accents loud lie cried, “I never thought of that.” A bunch of crackers to the tail of one small dog he’d tied, the dog in anguish sought the barn, and ’mid its ruin died. Tlia sparks Hew wide and red, and hot they lit upon that brat; they fired the crackers in his hand, and even those in his hat. Then came a burst of rattling sound—the boy! Where was he gone” Ask of the winds that far around strewed hits of hone, and scraps of clothes, and balls, and ( tops, and nails, and hooks, and yam, the relics of that dreadful boy that | burned his father’s barn.—Springfield i Union.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/SNEWS19220728.2.15
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Shannon News, 28 July 1922, Page 3
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150CASABIANCT AGAIN. Shannon News, 28 July 1922, Page 3
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