Because it’s always changing and it always has a man in it.
* * *
Dear Captain Fawcett—If it takes an eight months old woodpecker with a rubber bill six months to peck through a cypress log big enough to make 300 shingles, how long would it take a six months old grasshopper with a corkscrew leg to kick the seeds out of a cucumber?—Johnny Jumpup.
Our hired man, Gus, says that he was told by Gus, our village butcher, that an Alabama black man had got a straight tip from the jockey’s bible that it would take just as long for the grasshopper to do the trick you mention as it would take a two-stripe member of the 27th Division to pick off 3,000,001 cooties with a pair of 16-ounce boxing gloves.
* * *
Dear Captain Billy—If you had a girl out riding in your automobile, and she complained of being cold and said she would be all right if she only had something around her, would you drive back, as I did, and get her coat?—Bashful Bob.
No, but I wouldn’t do what you did, you cheerful prevaricator.
* * *
Dear Capt. Whiz Bang—I am about to attend a “dry” party, but would like your suggestion as to a good “wet” toast for dry days.—Ike Atchum.