“ Doctor,!” said the wild-eyed man apprehensively, dreadfully upset, I don’t know what to do.” “ What’a the trouble?” “ The ghosts of my departedi relatives come and perch on the top of the fence posts all round my garden,” replied the other. Every night it’s the same—they just sit there waiting, waiting, waiting. What shall I do?” “Sharpen the top of the posts,”- advised tie doctor,. - -
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Bibliographic details
Evening Star, Issue 22577, 19 February 1937, Page 12
Word Count
64Untitled Evening Star, Issue 22577, 19 February 1937, Page 12
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