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Evening Star, Issue 21623, 19 January 1934, Page 13

The chemist had left his counter in charge of a youthful assistant. This young man. being of a highly ingenious turn of mind, it was not without some inward trepidation that the chemist learned upon his return that the assistant had been confronted in the interval with the case of a man who had failed to get the bettor of an argument with a. steam roller. “What on earth did you do?” gasped the chemist. “Gave him nerve tonic,” was the reply. “ Nerve tonic? Why that, in the name of goodness?” “Run down and depressed,” was the reply. Five-year-old Dorothy, perched on her father’s knee in the very crowded tramcar, peered hard at the stout, very gaudily dressed individual as she bustled and edged herself into tho only available seat. Dorothy continued' to stare, and then after a while she turned to her mother. “ Mummy.” she said in loud tones, “ it’s a lady!” “S-sh, dear,” scolded the parent angrily. “We know it is.” The small child looked hurt. “ But, niunimy.” she said, “you just said to daddy, ‘What’s this object coming in?’ ”