Beneath the glimmers of a cloud-veiled moon, I’ve clutched the bridge-rail in a wild typhoon, And viewed the fury of the shrieking gale. When stories of the sea were told in sail. Sailers were dinkum shellbacks then, I vow! The modern sort are naught but deckhands now. But as of old their balm for colds, be sure. Is always Woods’ Great Peppermint Cure. 77
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Bibliographic details
Star (Christchurch), Issue 19109, 30 June 1930, Page 6
Word Count
64Untitled Star (Christchurch), Issue 19109, 30 June 1930, Page 6
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