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Despised and dejected, most miserable too, Jones sat in his office, saying a-a-tishoo The pen left his lingers and ran a swift race, Down the slope of the desk, a most wretched disgrace. Then it inked his new trousers, for which he’d not paid, I’m sure yon can’t think what a ruin it made. If he’d only got Woods’ Great Peppermint Cure, Dic’d have saved those new trousers, of that I feel sure.

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZTIM19130301.2.90.3

Bibliographic details

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXVII, Issue 8367, 1 March 1913, Page 8

Word Count
73

Page 8 Advertisements Column 3 New Zealand Times, Volume XXXVII, Issue 8367, 1 March 1913, Page 8

Page 8 Advertisements Column 3 New Zealand Times, Volume XXXVII, Issue 8367, 1 March 1913, Page 8