He spied an old gent with a kind face, tottering along the road.
"Just wait a minute," says Percy, "I'll see if that old gent carries a pocket flask."
So he went over and says:
"Kind sir, can you give a poor man who has heart trouble a drop of whiskey?"
"You should not drink that stuff," says the old man, "why do you do it?"
"Because I'm thirsty," says Percy.
"Then why don't you drink milk?" says he. "Milk, you know, makes blood."
"But," says Percy, "I'm not blood-thirsty."