FOR A GOOD GIRL
Dear maid, who held my heart in thrall, In this wild age of dissipation. You stand aloof, untouched by all Contamination. Your mien is modest and demure: You don’t powder, rouge or henna; You go to dances trailed by your Duenna. In this Jazz age you have no part. All this, and more. I’ve got to hand you. And that’s—Why not be frank, dear heart?— Why I can’t stand you!
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/SUNAK19290928.2.181
Bibliographic details
Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 780, 28 September 1929, Page 21
Word Count
74FOR A GOOD GIRL Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 780, 28 September 1929, Page 21
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