“Ah! That’s pride.”
Nanny: “Drop that, Billy; drop it, I tell you! I don’t want you to get a taste for that sort o’ thing!”
PRIDE OF ANCESTRY.
Rover: “My father took the first prize at the exhibition!”
Towzer: “That’s nothing; my mother’s remains took a gold medal at the health-food fair!”
ALONE.
Susy: “What’s he cryin’ for?”