South Yorkshire Times, December 15, 1951

Tailpiece

A young Scotch farmer took his girl to a dance.

As he drove her home she began to sniff. “What is it, Jeannie?” he asked. “I’m miserable,” she whimpered, “naebody loves me and my hands are cold.”

Geordie pondered this for a moment or two and then said: “Jeannie, that’s nae true. God loves ye an’ ye can sit on your han’s.”