After Jock Quiggley’s collision, he buttoned his coat clear to the chin, and waddled up the street looking at store windows as he went. Gent’s Furnishings, he spelled on one.
“Guess this is about the suitablest place for me,” and he entered the store.
“Do ye sell shirts here?” he enquired of a clerk who was opening up for the day’s business.
“Yes, sir,” was the reply. “What kind and size, sir.”
“Oh, a done-up one, ave course, with a big sized neck.”
The clerk smiled as he opened box after box.
Finally Jock made his selection, then asked with...