He was very old, and, as he was nearly always ailing, the neighbours were surprised when they saw him hobbling down the street on a cold morning. "How are you keeping?" an acquaintance asked him.
"Oh," he returned sourly, "this is one of my good mornings. I've only got my rheumatics and lumbago, my neuritis and sciatica, and these new boots hurting my feet,"
Sense of Rhyme "Wuar is that song you are singing?" he asked the little Cockney.
"Tike yer plice," she replied.
Smilingly he told her she ought to say "Take your place."
She looked at him with contempt, as she asked: "And how's that going to rhyme with bibyfice' in the next line, I'd like to know?"
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.