THE REAL TROUBLE.

War Wit, Volume 1, Issue 4, 1 May 1941, Page 13

THE REAL TROUBLE.

M. 0.: After a careful examination I find your trouble is the stomach. Recruit: No doctor. I think it is the liver. M. 0.: How do you know? Recruit: Because I had a large piece of liver for breakfast yesterday. * * * “And when were you born?” asked the sergeant, taking the particulars of the recruit. “December, 1917,” answered the recruit.. “Ah,” mused the sergeant, “I well remember that winter. It was bitterly cold.” “Cold,” echoed the recruit. “I’ll say it was cold. I was brought by a penguin—the stork couldn’t make it.” / . . * * * A maiden lady lived in a small house in the country with one maid. One morning the bell rang. The maid admitted the visitor, an evacuee officer, then, rushed upstairs. ’ , “Please, mum,” she blurted out breathlessly, “you’ve got to have two babies, and the man’s downstairs!”