Читать книгу The So-called Human Race - Bert Leston Taylor - Страница 19

Sir: A young man promised a charming young woman, as a birthday remembrance, a rose for every year she was old. After he had given the order for two dozen Killarneys, the florist said to his boy: “He’s a good customer. Just put in half a dozen extra.” M. C. G.

“When,” inquires a fair reader, apropos of our remark that the only way to improve the so-called human race is to junk it and begin over again, “when does the junking begin? Because …” Cawn’t say when the big explosion will occur. But look for us in a neighboring constellation.

When they junk the human species

We will meet you, love, in Pisces.