WAR NEWS IN THE PANTRY
“James!” she said, severely.
The butler looked up with a guilty flush.
“James,” she asked, “how is it that whenever I come into the pantry I find your work at sixes and sevens, and you sprawled out reading the war news?”
“Well, ma’am,” the butler answered, “I should say it was on account of them old rubber-sole shoes you’re always wearin’ about the house.”