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Show Come Home, Mother. Mother, dear mothor, como homo from the club, nnd rustle somo supper sup-per for mo; 'tis tlmo you woro hero working ovor tho grub and getting things ready for tea. Tho tablo's not BOt nor tho tcakettlo boiled, tho vegetables vege-tables aro not preparod; no wondor my temper nnd feelings aro rolled, though 'tis doubtful, Indeed, if you enrcd. Como home, como homo, como ho-ho-homo! Yes, cut your symposium down a woo bit, dear mothor, and hustle right homo! Loh Angeles Hx-prosB. |