"Ow. the -right-form platoon," roared the sergeant.
The raw. recruíts-carried out some kind of manceuvre which left the sergeant speechless, He looked at them for a moment. Then his voice returned and no words can describe the tone of it:
"AN right, now take your partners for the Lancers." oe Time Enough Conen had a little tailor's shop on ihe ground floor of an eighty-storey New York skyscraper. In the morning all was as usual, but at midnight the shop was plastered with notices: "Selling O" "Huge Bargains! "Clearance Sale!
"What is the idea of your clearing out so suddenly?" asked a friend.
"The sixty-second storey is on. fire," replied Mr. Cohen.
Once!
Two tramps stood in front of the Opera House, New York.
"Like opera?" asked the first.
1 like it?" said his companion. "Why, I'll have you know that I once sang with the finest opera company in Italy!"
"Yeah?" murmured his friend scoptically. "Then how come you're a hobo today?".
"I don't know," shrugged the other. "I guess somebody heard me sing!" cee Any Complaints Taree little cockneys marched into a smart restaurant, ordered one cup of tea between them, and proceeded to, eat sandwiches taken from. their pockets.
The shocked almost manager, speechless, dashed over to yank them out. Before he could speak, one of them looked up.
"Ao are you?" be asked.
"Tm the manager."
"Well, we was just going to send for you," said the boy. "Why ain't the band playing?"
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.