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A little boy hurt his finger and ran into the house to show his mother.

“Oh,” she said, “let me get a Band-Aid for that.”

“No!” Cried the boy.  “Cider!”

“Cider?” The mother asked.  “What on earth do you want cider for?”

“Because,” he explained, “Sis says whenever she gets a prick in her hand, she likes to put in cider.”

January 2008

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