Poor Solomon Stead lay, rick in his bed, Xwas a cold that he'd contracted. With lungs like lead, he was all but dead, And his wife was nigh distracted. Overcome with grief she shook like a leaf, But such anguish was premature. Her mother rushed in, replacing hot pin With Woods' Great Peppermint Cur*. -[Adrt.] ■ .
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/ESD19160817.2.7.6
Bibliographic details
Evening Star, Issue 16195, 17 August 1916, Page 1
Word Count
55Page 1 Advertisements Column 6 Evening Star, Issue 16195, 17 August 1916, Page 1
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