“Awake My Little Ones” We must away. Ye know how brief our interval to stay. Behold, 'tis dawn! The bowl contains no more — Here comes the drowsy tapster with his score. Still from the vine the ruby nectar flows, And still the rose beside the river blows; And still the bronchial ills we oft endure, Waits precious Woods’ Great Peppermint Cure 12
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Wairarapa Times-Age, 30 June 1938, Page 9
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62Page 9 Advertisements Column 1 Wairarapa Times-Age, 30 June 1938, Page 9
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