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Evening Star, Issue 24005, 2 October 1941, Page 8

A battalion was on one of its big parades in a city. After the usual inspection before a parade the colonel gave the order to march. The band struck up a lively air and the battalion moved on gallantly, but a trombone player on the left of the front rank stood still, causing the band to cease playing. The colonel, riding up to the man, exclaimed furiously; “ M ve on, man; move on. What on earth are you stopping for? Don’t you know that the parade has begun?” ‘‘Be aisy, sor; he aisy,” said the man, ” I’ve got fifteen bars rest.”