The story about the recently arrived immigrant reminds me of other such tales originating in this shared experience. One involved the Irishman who lost his footing on the wet cobbles of the street in Liverpool, slipped, and sat down heavily and no doubt painfully, but amusingly to two local Polis. The Sergeant said, "ah, Paddy, you'll find the streets of Britain are tricky of themselves", to which our hero responded, "Tricky and all as they are, I made them kiss my arce".
That's not a "typo", but an authentic spelling from a local (an aunt spelled it thus in a letter. To my mother).