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Mistaken Identity
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In the days of the British Raj in India, a fresh young
lieutenant had just joined his regiment, and was being
interviewed by his commanding officer.
'What's your name, lad?'' the CO asked.
'Ponsonby-Smythe, sir.' the lieutenant replied.
'Ponsonby!', exclaimed the CO. 'Not Ponsonby of the
Punjab Brigade?'
'My father, sir.' answered the lieutenant.
'Capital! Now let's see. Smythe. Would that be Smythe
of the Lucknow Rifles?'
'Yes, sir! My wife's uncle!' said the young officer.
'Excellent!' the CO retorted. 'Well then, you mention
your wife - where is she at the moment?'
'I regret to say that she has taken to her bed with
cramp.' the lieutenant replied.
'Good God!' the CO exclaimed. 'Not Cramp of the
Calcutta Cavalry!'
lieutenant had just joined his regiment, and was being
interviewed by his commanding officer.
'What's your name, lad?'' the CO asked.
'Ponsonby-Smythe, sir.' the lieutenant replied.
'Ponsonby!', exclaimed the CO. 'Not Ponsonby of the
Punjab Brigade?'
'My father, sir.' answered the lieutenant.
'Capital! Now let's see. Smythe. Would that be Smythe
of the Lucknow Rifles?'
'Yes, sir! My wife's uncle!' said the young officer.
'Excellent!' the CO retorted. 'Well then, you mention
your wife - where is she at the moment?'
'I regret to say that she has taken to her bed with
cramp.' the lieutenant replied.
'Good God!' the CO exclaimed. 'Not Cramp of the
Calcutta Cavalry!'
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