Much troubled in mind, the Cynic reclined, His star was not in ascendant; He deigned not to scoff for he had a bad cough, And a tear from his nose was pendant. “I’ll away!” said Diog, “To Delphi I'll jog, And consult that oracle sure.” He went, and it said, “For a cold in the head, Take Woods’ Great Peppermint Cure.
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Wairarapa Age, 21 June 1934, Page 5
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61Page 5 Advertisements Column 1 Wairarapa Age, 21 June 1934, Page 5
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