ACCURACY AT ALL COSTS.
The race was a neck-and-neck one. The spectators stood with bated breath. No sound was to be herd but the stampeding of the two horses’ hoofs and the ticking of the timekeeper’s double-patent-extra-special-fractodecimo-never-stop stop watch. “Dead heat !” roared the spectators, A great roar rent the air. The timekeeper stepped forward and held up his hand. “No, gentlemen !” he cried. “Betcher Boots was the winner ! I timed him by this fracto-decimo stopwatch ! There arc sixty seconds in a minute, sixty doo-dars in a second, and sixty wiff-waffs in a doo-dar—-and Betcher Boots won by a quarter of a wifi-waff!” Enemy (at the Manoeuvres)) j 'You are my prisoner.” Sergeant Binks : “Nonsense ! How did you get here ?” Enemy : “Over that bridge.” Sergeant : “Then, my dear fellow you are drowned. We blew up that bridge yesterday.” Bach : “I suppose, old man, your wife still thinks she married a treasure ?” Benedict : “No ; a treasury I”
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NORAG19110617.2.54
Bibliographic details
Northland Age, Volume VII, Issue 42, 17 June 1911, Page 8
Word Count
155ACCURACY AT ALL COSTS. Northland Age, Volume VII, Issue 42, 17 June 1911, Page 8
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