The big business man, obliged to take a quicker lunch than usual, went into a nearby cafo and ordered the best that could be had. Sitting opposite him was a well-built, if over-slim, young man attacking some bread and cheese, who cast envious looks at his neighbour’s plate. The latter noting this, nodded sympathetically and queried: “Athlete on a diet, old chap?” “ No,” came the reply, “ one of your travellers on commission.” “Hurt your hand?” “ Yes, last night I was nearly home when some silly ass came along and trod on my hand.”-
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Evening Star, Issue 22444, 15 September 1936, Page 3
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93Untitled Evening Star, Issue 22444, 15 September 1936, Page 3
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