People Who Live in Glasshouses, Shouldn't

In New Caledonia, one evening the 'Judge' spotted a fire in a rubbish tin, and as the grass near the camp was very dry, he decided such a state of affairs could not continue. The following morning he went into the orderly room, and instructed the clerk to include in the day's routine orders a paragraph stating that under no circumstances were cigarette butts or matches to be dropped into rubbish tins, unless they were extinguished. About midday, he found it necessary to proceed to the orderly room again, and no sooner had he entered, than his fine nostrils scented something burning. He looked round, had the orderly room clerks searching everywhere, but without success. Suddenly he gave a yell, and shouted:—

'Good heavens, it's me. I'm burning.'

He had put a cigarette butt in his pocket without putting it out.

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