An 16th-century vagabond in England, exhausted and
famished, came to a roadside Inn with a sign reading:
“George and the Dragon.” He knocked. The Innkeeper’s
wife stuck her head out a window.”Could ye spare some
victuals?”The woman glanced at his shabby, dirty
clothes. “No!” she shouted”Could I have a pint of ale?”
“No!” she shouted. “Could I at least use your privy?”
“No!” she shouted again.The vagabond said, “Might I
please…?”"What now?” the woman screeched, not
allowing him to finish.”D’ye suppose,” he asked,
“that I might have a word with George?”