The Naked Island
"Why?" I asked.
"Because," said the publican, with quite unwarranted impatience, "I want to see if you've got piles."
"I haven't." I told him firmly and remained vertical.
"Bend over," he bellowed. "You can't expect me to take your word for it--got to see for myself."
"You didn't want to see my grandparents," I argued.
"I am not," he hissed, "examining your grandparents for piles, Now bend over."
"You asked me," I pointed out, "whether my grandparents were cracked. I said, No. You didn't say, Show me your uncracked grandparents! Now, you ask, have I got piles and I say, 'No,' and you say, Bend over. It doesn't make sense."
With a look of undisguised hostility, he straightened up in his chair.
"All right," he capitulated, "you have not got piles. Now, for God's sake," and he said the words very slowly and with not much g