Transactions

I nipped into the market for a cup of coffee just as it was packing up.
Old Mr Frost (a regular stall-holder  I blipped three years ago) appeared to have made a last-minute sale, quite possibly his first of the day.
I'm not sure if it will fit you... says the woman to her husband of the sludge-coloured jumper. (He seems already to have bought a hat, identical to Mr Frost's.)
It's the very best quality,  and all British-made says Mr F.
I'm 84 tomorrow! he adds. (How could they say no?)
Now he's taking out his ancient joke book, covered in brown paper and mended with sticky tape. To clinch the deal he's going to read them his favourite joke - as if he didn't know it by heart.
It goes like this (I know because he's told it to me too.)
Little Johnny asks his mother if he will be getting a baby  brother or sister. Maybe, she says, but babies are very expensive. A few days later little Johnny runs home and tells her 'Mam, Mam, come quick - there's a sale at the church hall and it says Children Half-price!'