What’s in a Name
A STALWART Swede stepped into a corner drug store. “I bane sick,” said he to the clerk. “And I want some viskey.” “Nothing doing,” answered the clerk. “Don’t you know the country is dry?” But he added, “You might be able to get some squirrel whiskey over there at that saloon.”
Across the street the big Swede made known his wants. “Squirrel whiskey,” yelled the astonished proprietor, “we don’t have such a thing, but,” in a whisper, “I can fix you up with a little ‘Old Crow.’” The Swede shook his head.
“I no want to fly,” he answered, “I yoost want to yump around avhile.”