I'll moor my craft beside your lawn; so up and make good cheer!
Pluck me your greenest salads! Draw me your coolest beer!
For I intend to lunch with you and talk an hour or more
Of how we used to hustle in the good old days of war.
The Vicar of a country parish was letting his house to a locum tenens, and sent him a telegram, "Servants will be left if desired." Promptly came back the reply, "Am bringing my own sermons." And now each is wondering what sort of man the other is.
"Young Man to help weigh and clean widows at chemist's shop."—Sheffield Daily Telegraph.
To any young man who should be inclined to apply we commend the advice of Mr. Weller, senior, "Sammy, beware of the vidders."