Be kind to your mother, for when, you wore small, She kissed arid caressed you, if you had n. fall; She nursed you in sickness, and laughed at your joy, . For she was your mother, and you her dear boy/ No friends could be kinder, no friends could bo truer Than mother—and Woods' Great Pep- , . permint Cure I*
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NEM19150709.2.16.3
Bibliographic details
Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XLVIII, Issue XLVIII, 9 July 1915, Page 2
Word Count
58Page 2 Advertisements Column 3 Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XLVIII, Issue XLVIII, 9 July 1915, Page 2
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