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The woman wore a worried looft, Her brow was creased with care, The chemist's store by storm she took And hailed a salesman there. "O, Sir," she said, "I'm ill wiUi dread, My child will die, I'm sure ; With croup he's sick, please serve me quick !. With Woods' Great i'eipcrmint Cure "You refuse mo," cried the curate. "Madam, how can I endure it ?" Said tho lady, cheerfully, "It's as easy as can be. Stick to Suratura Tea I"
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/PATM19190620.2.19.1
Bibliographic details
Patea Mail, Volume XLIII, 20 June 1919, Page 3
Word Count
78Page 3 Advertisements Column 1 Patea Mail, Volume XLIII, 20 June 1919, Page 3
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Copyright in this material is licensed to the National Library of New Zealand by Jim Clarkson. You can copy, communicate, adapt or reproduce this material for any purpose.
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