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The miser sat amongst his gold. “I would not part,” he said, “With half a guinea, tho’ my tifd Were to be forfeited. But influenza got him down, , His breaths grew short and fewer-" “Take ‘all’ I’ve got,” he cried, but give Me WOODS’ GREAT PEPPERMINT CURE.

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZGRAP19040806.2.80.2

Bibliographic details

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIII, Issue VI, 6 August 1904, Page 52

Word Count
105

Page 52 Advertisements Column 2 New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIII, Issue VI, 6 August 1904, Page 52

Page 52 Advertisements Column 2 New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIII, Issue VI, 6 August 1904, Page 52