A little girl walks into a pet shop and asks in the sweetest little lisp:

"Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep wittle wabbits?"

And the shopkeeper gets down on his knees, so that he's on her level, and asks:

"Do you want a wittle white wabbit or a soft and fuwwy bwack wabbit or maybe one like that cute wittle bwown wabbit over there?"

She in turn puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says in a quiet voice:


"I don't fink my pyfhon weally kaers.

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Susan