Poetry.
Mother's Girl. S'putp« to the vlhrpleii elbow, Fun in the s-veet bln« ejea, To and fro upon BrrinJs, The liUle maiden hire. Now »he i" washing di»he?, Now she ia feeding ttie chicks, Now nho it praying with pussy, Or teaching llover trioks. V\ r r>ipped in » big whi'e apron, Pinned in a checkered shawl, Hanging elothfs in th« garden, Oh, wcr« she only t&ll I Ilusbing ih* freiful baby, Conxirg hia hair to earl, S»'ppirg around so briikly, }3«oame she is mother's girl. Hun f iug for epß* in the haymow, Pelting old Brindle'a calf, Itdmp; D.in to the pnatare, With many a ringing laugh. Coming whene'er you call her, Uunning wherever lont, Mother's girl is r blessing, And mother is well content. — Pure Words.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WT18850926.2.30
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Waikato Times, Volume XXV, Issue 2063, 26 September 1885, Page 5 (Supplement)
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127Poetry. Waikato Times, Volume XXV, Issue 2063, 26 September 1885, Page 5 (Supplement)
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