And then my tears come out.
When you are awfully good to me
I smile, and smile, and smile,
So if you like sun more than rain
Try being good awhile.
* * *
Great Gawsch!
“Hang it all, daughter,” exploded old Jenkins. “You can’t marry young Dobbins, I won’t have it. Why he only makes eighteen dollars a week.”
“I know father,” replied the sweet young thing, “but a week passes so quickly when you are fond of each other.”
* * *