“Yep.”
Stopping on the second floor, where this man also said he lived, he opened the door and pushed him in. As he again reached the front door he discerned the shadow of a third man, evidently worse off than either of the other two. He was about to approach him when the object of his solicitude lurched out into the street and threw himself into the arms of a passing policeman. “For Heaven’s sake, off’cer,” he gasped, “protect me from that man. He’s done nothin’ all night long but carry me upstairs ’n’ throw me down th’ elevator shaf’.”
Husband comes in to find his wife turning everything topsy-turvy.
“Good gracious! Isabel, what are you doing?”
“I just received a telegram from Aunt Jane saying she’ll be here at 6.30 and I can’t find her photograph anywhere.”
At the school at which the writer was educated there was a certain assistant master who invariably “put his foot in it” when he got the chance. On one occasion, being exasperated by the conduct of a boy, he turned to him and said, “Look here, X., I’ll take care that you won’t be the biggest fool in the class as long as I’m here.”
Mrs. Barron was one of the new “summer folk,” and not acquainted with the vernacular. Consequently, she was somewhat surprised, upon sending an order for a roast of lamb to the nearest butcher, to receive the following note in reply: “Dear Mam. I am sorry I have not killed myself this week, but I can get you a leg off my brother (the butcher at the farther end of the town). He’s full up of what you want. I seen him last night with five legs. Yours respectful. George Gunton.”