SHE LOVED THE DRUGGIST.
She was sitting on a " rock and rye," toying with her "golden Beat" and sadly watching the " serpeotoria " walk, while the "wild cherry," "Peruvian," and " white oak" bark of stray dogs was borne on the fitful breeze, and the " sweet spirits of nitre" moaned in doeful harmony. Her eyes "glycerined" with suppressed emotion. What's that ? Tis he! No, 'tis bat a "coltsfoot" She impatiently picked the fioger of her "foujloTe." I "camphor" to meet him, I " ohamomile "to meet him* I " mustard " courage to brare the 4-oz. " fial-anee " of my •« poppy," and still he cometh not. Hark to the soft note of a "hartshorn." A youth leaped over the " rhubarb " fence with " pennyroyal" step, approached and with a glare cried ''Belladonna (be was an Italian), "strained and filtered" her to his bosom. - "Ob, uy lore," she murmured, "' lodide of potash' had you not come, hut now I no. 4 morphia.' Tears, doubts I' castor oil* to the winds." ' Crooning with a " Winslow soothing " voice, he only stroked her ''flixseed" hair and gazed into her " blue mast " eye». And the clock in the village boomed two —Philadelphia News.
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Thames Star, Volume XVII, Issue 5198, 14 September 1885, Page 2
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191SHE LOVED THE DRUGGIST. Thames Star, Volume XVII, Issue 5198, 14 September 1885, Page 2
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