“It’s that dog!” ejaculated Private Jones, as he made ready to appear before his superior officer.
“Jones,” said that worthy, frowningly, “this gentleman complain that you have killed his dog.”
“A dastardly trick,” warmly interrupted the owner of the dog, “to kill a defenseless animal that would harm no one!”
“Not much defenseless about it,” chimed in the private, heatedly. “He bit pretty freely into my leg while I was on sentry duty, so I ran my bayonet into him.”
“Nonsense!” answered the owner, angrily. “He was such a docile creature. Why did you not defend yourself with the butt of your rifle?”
“Why didn’t he bite me with his tail?” asked Private Jones, humbly.
WE SUGGEST THIS TO ALL OF ’EM
A visitor to a West-end restaurant in London, being waited on by a particularly tall and fine-looking waiter with a foreign accent, asked the man his nationality.
“Oh, I am a Hungarian,” was the reply.