A CURE FOR COLD.
On a hitter winter night Patrick O'Hara who had been tramping all day long flung himself down to rest beneath a cart. A benighted wayfarer passed by, and hearing an unusual sound like snoring, he approached the sleeper and prodded him in the ribs with a stout stick. “What are you doing under that cart thore, my poor fellow?” he inquired. • “Just sleqpin'!” came the drowsy, cross reelr. “At laarte, Oi was!” ft 3sut," «tid the wayfarer, “do you not fell c*ldP” The enow began to fall with gentle persistency as Pat turned dreamily over on his side. “Shure, an' I do,” he answered sleepily; “so just throw on another cart, will yer”
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZTIM19080224.2.90.17
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Times, Volume XXX, Issue 6451, 24 February 1908, Page 4
Word Count
117A CURE FOR COLD. New Zealand Times, Volume XXX, Issue 6451, 24 February 1908, Page 4
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