ST. GEORGE and the DRAGON

An 18th-century vagabond in England, exhausted and famished, came to a roadside Inn with a huge sign reading: “ST. GEORGE and the DRAGON.” He knocked.

The Innkeeper’s wife stuck her head out a window. “Could ye spare some victuals?” The woman glanced at his shabby, dirty clothes. “No!” she shouted.

“Could I have a pint of ale?” “No!” she shouted. “Could I at least use your privy?” “No!” she shouted again. The vagabond said, “Might I please…?”

“What now?” the woman screeched, not allowing him to finish. “D’ye suppose,” he asked, “that I might have a word with GEORGE?”