A Nrw Yorker drove his visiting country cousin round the town, pointing out the various wonders of the metropolis. He slowed his car before a tall building.
"Look at this building," the New Yorker cried proudly. "It's one hundred storeys high."
The farmer nodded slowly.
"Doggone fine building," he admitted.
"Makes yer hoid spin jest to look up at it.
"The pair drove a mile down-town, and the city man paused to signal out another building.
"Here's a new skyscraper," he informed.
The farmer stroked his chin.
"Fifty storeys, eh?" he drawled.
"What made them stop in the middle?"
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.