The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty, cherished book, The odor vile, the noisome taint Of horrid, stale tobacco-smoke Yet lingers! The hateful man, my book to spoil! Patrick, the tongs--lest I sh... Read more of SHE. at Give Up.caInformational Site Network Informational
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The eminent English Statesman Arbuthnot-Joyce plays golf so badly that
he prefers a solitary round with only the caddy present. He had a new
boy one day recently, and played as wretchedly as usual.

"I fancy I play the worst game in the world," he confessed to the caddy.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, sir," was the consoling response. "From what
the boys were saying about another gentleman who plays here, he must be
worse even than you are."

"What's his name?" asked the statesman hopefully.

And the caddy replied:

"Arbuthnot-Joyce."





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