“Your husband will be all right now,” said an English doctor to a woman whose husband was dangerously ill.
“What do you mean?” demanded the wife. “You told me ‘e couldn’t live a fortnight.”
“Well, I’m going to cure him, after all,” said the doctor. “Surely you are glad?”
The woman wrinkled her brows.
“Puts me in a bit of an ‘ole,” she said. “I’ve bin an’ sold all ‘is clothes to pay for ‘is funeral.”
