The tailor was ill-with a dangerous chill. And his breath cnm<> in lluttoring "pants." His life, so they said, just hung by a "thread," For tlio doctor had murmured "no chance." No words can ex-"pres-i" his awful distress. But il "wains" that hp put up a fidit: Ho tool; (hn tliini! sure, Woods' Pcppurmint Cure, "Sow," "aecjlW 1 to «,(-, i,, got tight.—Advt a
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/DOM19100521.2.16.2
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Dominion, Volume 3, Issue 821, 21 May 1910, Page 3
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63Page 3 Advertisements Column 2 Dominion, Volume 3, Issue 821, 21 May 1910, Page 3
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