TASTE IT FOR YOURSELF

Otaki Mail, 17 February 1919, Page 2

TASTE IT FOR YOURSELF

I met a sccdy-looking individual coming away from the Petonc beach one hot summer’s day. In his baud lie carried a beer bottle tightly corked. “What’s the time, mister?” he drawled. I removed my “boy-proof” from my pocket, scanned its dial, and gave him the time o’ day. And having answered his question, 1 thought I was justified in having my curiosity gratified. “What have you got in the bottle, Sport?” 1 demanded. He gave me what I thought was a look of uuuttcrablc pity, but after some hesitation, replied: “Why, I’ve got here a bottle of the deep blue Pacific Ocean.” “So I perceive,” I rejoined; “but what are you doing with it?” I could sec I was treading on. dangerous ground. He said it was no business of' mine. But after a little insistence on my part he relented. “'Well you see,” he unfolded, “I was born away up country, and my mother and father were born there too. They have never seen the sea and won’t believe it’s salt!” My incredulous look, expanding into a smile, evidently annoyed him. “It’s true, whether you believe it or not,” he said. I explained that I didn’t doubt it in the least, whereat he added, “And so I am taking this bottle home so that they'can taste it for themselves—two good tumblers lull.” I remarked that the motive was an excellent*onc, especially as sea water was a certain cure for indigestion. Then I received an inspiration. “.You won’t get the bottle home like that,” 1 said, and suggested that 'he should pour about a third of if out. “Why should I?” he demanded. And then I told him that as he had taken the water from the «ea at low tide, he hadn't left room for the tide to come in! “By George!” he said gleefully; “I hadn’t thought of that.” He there and then emptied a good portion on the road, thanked me with a hearty handshake, j and went on his way rejoicing. |