Proudie! Proudie!
A well-known actor was introduced to a chap who didn’t strike him particularly because he was prejudiced against men who talk in soprano voices. The next time they met he ignored the fellow entirely. A few days later he ran across the fellow again, but his face was still frozen.
The fourth meeting occurred in a cafe, and he of the soprano voice waltzed up to the disgusted actor’s table.
“Do you know,” he said, “we have met three times and you weally haven’t noticed me?” Then with a sibilant lisp in a high C that nobody in the cafe could miss, he gave the actor three little dabs on the shoulder and squeaked, “Proudie! Proudie! Proudie!”
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