The tailor was ill with a dangerous chill, And his breath came in flutterin" "pants." > /■' ° His life, so thoy said, just hung by a. "thread," For tho doctor had murmured "no
No words can cx-"press" his awful distress. But it "scams" that ho put up a fightHe took tho thing snre, Woods' Peppermint Cure, "Sew," "needier" to onv, ha go t right.—Advt. j
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/DOM19100609.2.88.3
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Dominion, Volume 3, Issue 838, 9 June 1910, Page 6
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63Page 6 Advertisements Column 3 Dominion, Volume 3, Issue 838, 9 June 1910, Page 6
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