THE "DAMNÉD SPOT."
"YOU OUGHT REALLY TO MANAGE TO GET BLOWN TO BITS SOMEHOW, NOBBY. YOU'D MAKE A CHAMPION JIG-SAW PUZZLE."
"HEY, DONAL'! HERE'S A WEE BETTLESHIP COMIN' ALONG."
"OCH! A WISH IT MICHT BE A U-BOAT."
Old Lady. "PARDON ME! I SUPPOSE YOU'VE JUST COME FROM THE SEA. CAN YOU TELL ME WHY I'VE HAD TO PAY A PENNY MORE FOR SCALLOPS TO-DAY?"
Landlord. "WHATEVER DID YOU LET THE FIRE OUT FOR? WHY DIDN'T YOU PUT SOME COALS ON?"
Stoker. "NOT LIKELY! I'M ON LEAVE, I AM."
Friend. "SEE YOU'RE IN A HURRY. WON'T KEEP YOU. OFF TO ADMIRALTY, I SUPPOSE?"
Sub-Lieutenant H.M.S. "Unbendable." "NOT EXACTLY. FACT IS I'M DUE AT MME. GIROUETTE'S ACADEMY. STRUCK AGAINST A COUPLE OF NEW STEPS IN THE FOX TROT AT THE PILKINGTONS' LAST NIGHT—RATHER WORRIED ME. BYE-BYE. MUST SHOVE OFF!"
Jones (who in going through his wardrobe has unearthed a memento of happier days at Margate). "WELL, IF THEY SHOULD CALL UP THE FORTY-FIVES, I THINK IT WILL HAVE TO BE THE NAVY."
The Artist (impatiently). "FOR GOODNESS' SAKE PUT SOME EXPRESSION INTO IT! JUST IMAGINE YOU'VE COME THROUGH A TERRIBLE EXPERIENCE—SHIP TORPEDOED—YOU SOLE SURVIVOR. AFTER CLINGING TO A BELAYING-PIN NINETEEN HOURS IN THE OPEN SEA YOU ARE RESCUED AT THE LAST GASP. YOU ARE NOW RELATING YOUR ADVENTURES TO YOUR AGED PARENTS."
Model (obligingly). "THAT'S ALL RIGHT, SIR—I CAN MANAGE IT. BUT EXCUSE ME. DID YOU SAY EIGHTEEN HOURS, OR WAS IT NINETEEN?"
