“My birthday to-day,” he said with a broad grin, as he blew in, “and a few of the lads are coming along tonight to celebrate! Whoopee! Yes, I’ve got everything ready! The fatted calf will be there, the drinks afe ordered, and all I want now is a bit of baccy. Something extra special. Get me? Say half a pound. We’re all pipe smokers.” “0.1 C.,” said the tobacconist, as he weighed up the weed. “If you and your cobbers don’t like this, call me a Dutchman!” Next week the fgstive one popped in again with, “Say! Don’t know what that baccy was you handed out the other day. but all the lads wanted to know the brand, and I couldn’t say—didn't know myself.” The tobacconist smiled. “Cut Plug No. 10 (Bullshead),” he said. “Knew you'd like it. Everybody does. It’s toasted, same as Navy Cut No. 3 (Bulldog), Cavendish. Riverhead Gold and Desert Gold. They’re all best sellers! Talk about bouquet! Can you beat it? I ask you?" “You’ve said it, boss! Let’s have another half-pound! That’s baccy, that is!”*
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Bibliographic details
Gisborne Herald, Volume LXVIII, Issue 20624, 27 November 1941, Page 10
Word Count
181Page 10 Advertisements Column 2 Gisborne Herald, Volume LXVIII, Issue 20624, 27 November 1941, Page 10
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