`Why did the lady in the lift Slap that poor parson`s face?` Said Mother, thinking as she sniffed, Of clerical disgrace. Said Sonny Boy: `Alas, I know. My conscience doth accuse me; The lady stood upon my toe, Yet did not say—"Excuse me!" `She hurt—and in that crowd confined I scarcely could endure it; So when I pinched her fat behind She thought—it was the Curate.`SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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