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Fox Pass
In the north of England lived a man, poorly educated, who made a large fortune by selling his design for a bicycle chain.
With this money he set about realising his childhood ambition to become a country squire.
He purchased a beautiful estate near the Scottish border and proceeded, with the help of some excellent servants, to live in a manner none in his family had ever dreamed of.
Foremost of these servants was his butler, Hudson, a well educated man who assisted his master in every way he could to better himself.
The master would often ask Hudson for advice on how to handle a social situation, or to explain a new term.
One day when the master was reading he called Hudson in and asked, "Hudson, what is this fox pass?"
"Sir," replied Hudson, "that would be 'faux pas'. I'll give you an example."
"Do you remember recently when Lord and Lady Plushbottom stayed for the weekend? And do you remember how on Sunday morning Lord Plushbottom pricked his finger on a rose?"
"And do you further remember how later, at breakfast, Lady Plushbottom asked her husband 'Is your pr!ck still throbbing dear?' and you said 'blimey!' and I dropped the marmalade?"
"THAT, Sir, was a faux pas."
With this money he set about realising his childhood ambition to become a country squire.
He purchased a beautiful estate near the Scottish border and proceeded, with the help of some excellent servants, to live in a manner none in his family had ever dreamed of.
Foremost of these servants was his butler, Hudson, a well educated man who assisted his master in every way he could to better himself.
The master would often ask Hudson for advice on how to handle a social situation, or to explain a new term.
One day when the master was reading he called Hudson in and asked, "Hudson, what is this fox pass?"
"Sir," replied Hudson, "that would be 'faux pas'. I'll give you an example."
"Do you remember recently when Lord and Lady Plushbottom stayed for the weekend? And do you remember how on Sunday morning Lord Plushbottom pricked his finger on a rose?"
"And do you further remember how later, at breakfast, Lady Plushbottom asked her husband 'Is your pr!ck still throbbing dear?' and you said 'blimey!' and I dropped the marmalade?"
"THAT, Sir, was a faux pas."
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