WISE PRECAUTION
Rain was falling steadily as the weary cyclist plodded on through the mud. At last he spied a figure walking towards him through the gloom. Gladly he sprang off his machine, and asked the native:—
“How far off is the village of Poppleton?”
“Just ten miles the other way, sir,” was the reply.
“The other way!” exclaimed the cyclist. “But the last signpost I passed said it was in this direction.”
“Ah!” said the native, with a knowing grin, “but, ye see, we warped that there post round so as to fool those ’ere Zeppelins.”