The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 13, Issue 12 (March 1, 1939.)

Pensioned Off A Fit Man — Rigours of Police Life Did Not Harm Him — Would Not Miss His Kruschen

Pensioned Off A Fit Man
Rigours of Police Life Did Not Harm Him
Would Not Miss His Kruschen.

At 50 years of age he was presumed to be beyond the arduous demands of police duties. But was he? Read what he says now—five years after he was pensioned:—“I am a man of 55 years. It is now five years since I was pensioned off from the —– —– Police. I went through thick and thin, day and night in cold weather, while I was in the Force, and am to-day as fit as any man still serving in the Force. People often ask me ‘Why are you remaining so young?’ and my answer is ‘Kruschen Salts.’ I have used Kruschen Salts now for the last 13 years. If I miss my Kruschen one morning I feel it the next day, and I will certainly use these Salts until I am leaving this world.”—W.J.

The daily dose of Kruschen is such a little dose—such an easy dose—such a cheap dose—but it does so much for you.

The six salts in Kruschen provide just that gentle daily aid your internal organs require to enable them to perform their work properly. These vital salts keep your liver and kidneys in a top-notch of efficiency, so that they-free your system of all poisonous waste matter and, consequently, cleanse and refresh your blood.

And Kruschen's gentle but positive action is more than merely purifying—it has a direct tonic effect upon your blood, too, and through your bloodstream, upon every fibre of your body—fills you with a bracing sense of energetic fitness.

Millions of your fellow-beings know that Kruschen gives in joyous abundance just that health and happiness that make all the difference between the boredom of existence and the zest of life.

Kruschen Salts is obtainable at all Chemists and Stores at 2/3 per bottle.

where correspondents are allowed to vent their feelings about “road hogs,” there are other activities of these dashing young men which receive little publicity. Apart from the formation of “flying squads” of “blackberries,” so named because of the black berets worn as part of the uniform by these young New Zealand territorials, there are numerous motor-cycle clubs throughout New Zealand which provide recreation and competition for members and set a code of road rules which, if observed, would leave the “Mother of Ten,” “Vox Populi” and others with little to write about.