Little Willie came home in a sad state. He had a black eye and numerous scratches and contusions, and his clothes were a sight. His mother was horrified at the spectacle presented by her darling. There were tears in her eyes as she addressed him rebukingly:
"Oh Willie, Willie! How often have I told you not to play with that naughty Peck boy!"
Little Willie regarded his mother with an expression of deepest disgust.
"Say, ma," he objected, "do I look as if I had been playing with anybody?"
A property manager of single-family residence was showing a unit to prospective tenants and asking the usual questions. "Professionally employed?" he asked.
"We're a military family," the wife answered.
"Oh, yes, ages nine and twelve," she answered proudly.
"Oh, no," she said earnestly. "They're very well behaved."
Terry slammed his cards on the table and left the game in a huff.
"Boy," said another player disgustingly, "I really hate playing cards with a bad loser."
"He isn't very pleasant," another player said, raking in the chips, "but it's better than playing with a good winner."