SOME KICK.

War Wit, Volume 1, Issue 10, 1 November 1941, Page 9

SOME KICK.

McTavish was in the pub when the sirens went, and the customers went outside, leaving their drinks. McTavish walked calmly round the bar, finishing them off. He was just tossing down the fifteenth or so when a German plane crashed nearby. The explosion blew him flat on his back. “Oh, boy!” he cried. “That last drink had a kick in it.”

; Though he was only a page-boy at an hotel, he was given to. studying the English language. One pay-day recently he received his wages, short of a small fine deducted for some misdemeanour. Indignantly he sought out the manager. \ “Pardon me, sir,” he*said courteously, “but if ypu should ever find it within the scope of your jurisdiction to levy an assessment on my wage for some trivial act, alleged to have been committed by myself at some inopportune moment in the stress of my vocation, I would suggest that you refrain from exercising the prerogative. The failure to do so on your part would force me reluctantly to tender my resignation.” The fainting manager gripped a chair to steady himself, as he gasped out: ~ 1 “W-w-what d’ye mean, boy?” “To speak plainly,” responded the lad, “If :you fine me again, I’ll chuck up the job!” * * * They’ve altered the old expression to: “When in Rome do as the Germans do!” ,