The chairman of a Pennine League club was retiring after many years of loyal service. At the dinner given in his honour by the club, the team captain, who had 'the drink taken', as they say in Ireland, rose to make his speech.
'It is said,' he began, 'that when a child is bom, its guardian angel gives it a kiss. If the kiss is on the hands, the child will become a musician or an artist.
If the kiss is on the head, it will become a great thinker or scientist.
If on the lips, it will grow up to be a singer or an actor.
Now I don't know where our Charlie here was kissed, but he's certainly been a damn good chairman!'
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