I used to bo a martyr to bronchitis, A victim sad of winter ills and ails. Till I wae told by chatty Mr« Eightia, Of a remedy that really never lails. The winter time now scarcely seems to try mc, - Tho' I sometimes got a twingo, you may be sure; But I always keep a large-sized bottle by me, Of Woods' Great Peppermint Cure. 13
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Press, Volume LIV, Issue 16207, 9 May 1918, Page 2
Word Count
65Page 2 Advertisements Column 5 Press, Volume LIV, Issue 16207, 9 May 1918, Page 2
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