Oh, rare Harry Parry,
When will you marry?
When apples and pears are ripe.
I’ll come to your wedding
Without any bidding
And dance and sing all the night.
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Oh, Rare Harry Parry
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About the Author: Miss Polly
Now that her dolly has grown up and moved out, Miss Polly is on the hunt for other sick, lonely and vulnerable creatures to smother with love and dodgy herbal cure-alls. She believes that Old Mac will help her find these poor dears and has signed on as his receptionist.
