Percy was certainly getting the biggest ten cents' worth I ever saw, when he stepped over and says:
"Don't you think you have had enough?"
"Just one more plate and then—" says Percy.
"Then what?" says the boss.
"Then you can tell the cook to make them a little bit thicker," says Percy.
I tried to chew my chicken, but couldn't get it down. I managed to catch the waiter on his fifteenth lap between the kitchen and Percy's plate, and says:
"Waiter, this chicken is awfully tough."
"Have some pancakes, then," says Percy. "They're good and come cheap."
"Well," says the waiter, "that chicken always was a Jonah. When we tried to kill it, the darned thing flew to the top of the house and we had to shoot it."