The Wind in the Willows

by Kenneth Grahame

The Clerk scratched his nose with his pen. “Some people would consider,” he observed, “that stealing the motor-car was the worst offence; and so it is. But cheeking the police undoubtedly carries the severest penalty; and so it ought. Supposing you were to say twelve months for the theft, which is mild; and three years for the furious driving, which is lenient; and fifteen years for the cheek, which was pretty bad sort of cheek, judging by what we’ve heard from the witness-box, even if you only believe one-tenth part of what you heard, and I never believe more myself—those figures, if added together correctly, tot up to nineteen years—” “First-rate!” said the Chairman. “—So you had better make it a round twenty years and be on the safe side,” concluded the Clerk.

Ha!