Ax anti-cigarette crusader in the Chicago Press Club one day came upon several writers.
Settling a fiery eye on a young man whose shoulders barely showed above the table top as he puffed at a cigarette over his typewriter, she demanded to know what good he could expect to come of his smoking.
The young man addressed was too startled to reply. But as he uncoiled himself to stand up over six feet tall, a drawling voice came from the other end of the table to say:
"Sure, madam, i'll stunt his growth!"
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.