“But I thought,” began the typiste meekly. “H’s not your business to think, snapped the angry manager. “Just you take down what I say, word for word, and nothing else.” So that afternoon the following letter was brought to him to sign:—“Dear Mr Greene, —Spell it with an ‘e.’ Pure swank —his father was a gardener. With regard to your letter (whatever dale it was), I can quote you the following prices. Hi! Thompson! It’s that outsider Greene. How much shall we stick on? Twenty per cent? What? Make it thirty? Righto. Thirty dollars a ton. Awaiting your esteemed order, urn—er—l am, yours truly. Ha! That’s settled him.”
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WAITA19401216.2.7
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Wairarapa Times-Age, 16 December 1940, Page 2
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108Untitled Wairarapa Times-Age, 16 December 1940, Page 2
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