Dan Cupid arose with a very red nose. And extracted a dart from his quiver: He adjusted his bow. but his hand shook so. And his wings were all of a shiver. “By Jove!” cried Cupid. "I’ve grown very stupid, My shooting is far from sure: It’s a touch of the ’flu, and this game I’ll eschew Till doctored with Woods' Peppermint Cure." 40
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WAITA19390815.2.53.2
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Wairarapa Times-Age, 15 August 1939, Page 5
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64Page 5 Advertisements Column 2 Wairarapa Times-Age, 15 August 1939, Page 5
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