A fellow was walking through a cemetery one dark and stormy night. As he got well into the cemetery, he heard a voice say, "Mark! Mark!".
Pretending not to let it bother him, he pulled his coat a little tighter and kept walking. Again the voice said, "Mark! Mark!". That did it.
He took off full speed and didn't stop till he was well outside the gates. As he stopped to catch his breath, the moon broke through the clouds enough so he could see what had been following him. It was a dog with a hare lip.