The Delivery

The new postman is delivering a registered parcel and needs a signature so he rings the doorbell. Sadie sticks her head out of the bedroom window and says, “Nu, what is it?”

“I have a registered parcel for Mrs Levy,” he replies.

“Is it wrapped in fancy gift paper or just plain brown paper?” Sadie asks.

“Ordinary brown paper, madam,” he replies.

“So who is it from?” Sadie asks.

“It’s from John Lewis department store, madam,” he replies.

“Does it say from which branch?” Sadie asks.

“Yes, madam,” he replies, “it’s from Oxford Street.”

“Does it say what’s in it?” Sadie asks.

“It says it’s from their Writing Instruments department,” he replies. “Will you now come down and sign for it, please.”

“Sorry,” replies Sadie, “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” he asks.

“Because,” Sadie replies, “I’m Sadie Cohen. Mrs Levy lives next door.”

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