Bis ejea were rod, hie nose was blue, He couldn't speak, he'd just say "Tchool" And everybody round they knew And pitied him, he had tire "floo," At last he gasped, "What shall I do?" And swiftly came the answer, too, For each one cried, "Oh, fool, procure A bottle of Woods' Greet Peppermint Cur©. 8
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/CHP19070907.2.56.6
Bibliographic details
Press, Volume LXIII, Issue 12903, 7 September 1907, Page 9
Word Count
56Page 9 Advertisements Column 6 Press, Volume LXIII, Issue 12903, 7 September 1907, Page 9
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Acknowledgements
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