I cannot smoke my old briar pipe, .My dinner tastes like sand; With 'kerchief limp I wipe my eyes, I sneeze to beat the hand. My throat is like a red hot coal, My nose?—no bluebell bluer, Hot water in the flo\vin» bowl, And Woods' Great Peppermint ■ Cure, -Advt.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/DOM19181014.2.12.3
Bibliographic details
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Dominion, Volume 12, Issue 16, 14 October 1918, Page 3
Word count
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49Page 3 Advertisements Column 3 Dominion, Volume 12, Issue 16, 14 October 1918, Page 3
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