One day a column of tanks was exercising on Salisbury plain in England. The column was led by a young lieutenant on his first solo command. He was lost. Dusk was falling, fuel running low, and the young lieutenant, seeing his chances for promotion slipping away, became desperate. He decided he would have to ask the way.
Roaring down a leafy lane the young lieutenant, in his lead tank, came upon an old man sitting on a five bar gate, chewing ruminatively on a juicy grass, and admiring the sunset.
'Halt! '
Cried the young lieutenant and twenty five Centurion tanks screeched to a stop, growling and puffing.
'My man! ' said the young lieutenant
'Can you point me the way to Salisbury Barracks? ”
The old man turned slowly on his gate, looked the lieutenant carefully up and down, inspected the line of tanks that filled the winding lane as far as the eye could see, and gently expelled his grass with a little spit.
'Well' he said
'It depends what you want,
The quickest or the prettiest'.
Stewart McKenzie
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/joke-01-the-quickest-or-the-prettiest/
