Our nephew was getting married to a doctor's daughter. At the wedding reception, the father of the bride stood to read his toast, which he had scribbled on a piece of scrap paper.

Several times during his speech, he halted, overcome with what I assumed was a moment of deep emotion.

But after a particularly long pause, he explained,

"I'm really sorry, folks.  I can't seem to make out what I've written down."

Looking out into the audience, he asked . . . 

 . . .  "Is there a pharmacist in the house?"