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ANECDOTE FOR FATHERS,
the art of lying may be
I have a boy of five years old,
One morn we strolld on our dry walk,
As we are wont to do.
My thoughts on former pleasures ran ;
A day it was when I could bear
My boy was by my side, so slim
The young lambs ran a pretty race; The morning sun shone bright and warm; “ Kilve," said I, “ was a pleasant place, "And so is Liswyn farm.
My little boy, which like you more," I said and took him by the arm“ Our home by Kilve's delightful shore, “ Or here at Liswyn farm ?"
“ And tell me, had you rather be," I said and held him by the arms, “ At Kilve's smooth shore by the green sea, "Or here at Liswyn farm?
In careless mood he looked at me,
“Now, little Edward, say why so;
T For, here are woods and green-hills warm; “ There surely must some reason be “ Why you would change sweet Liswyn farm “ For Kilve by the green
At this, my boy, so fair and slim,
His head he raised there was in sight,
Then did the boy his tongue unlock,