Little Jack Horner sat sick in a corner, A-coughing and rubbing his eyes, While Granny was waiting and watching him taking A dose fit to poison the flies. Twas a draught of her own, and far best left alone, Which she made her young victim endure—0, the silly old muff! to brew worthlags home stuff When there's Woods' Great Peppermint Cure.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/STEP19140611.2.12.6
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Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXXIX, Issue 41, 11 June 1914, Page 4
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61Page 4 Advertisements Column 6 Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXXIX, Issue 41, 11 June 1914, Page 4
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