In the blissful days if honey-moon
With hectic allurement smitten
I loved her late I loved her soon
And her dearest Kitten
But now my kittens grown a cat,
and cross, like other wives
Oh! by my soul, my torment that
I fear she has nine lives.
From the 1890 scrapbook of a Victorian lady
1984 03 DTHS Newsletter
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