Page 3 Advertisements Column 4

Lyttelton Times, Volume CXVII, Issue 17529, 12 July 1917, Page 3

“Oh, Clarissa, my dear, coma quiokly here! I’m certain poor baby is dying— It’s always counted a fatal sign iVhen a croupy child ceases crying,” “Oh, talk senso, Tilly! and don’t bo silly; He's improving, for I’ve made sure— Come close and peep at the darling asleep! He’s had Woods’ Groat Peppermint Cure.”