Into a Belfast pub comes Paddy Murphy, looking like he'd just been run
over by a train. His arm is in a sling, his nose is broken, his face is
cut and bruised and he's walking with a limp.
"What happened to you?" asks Sean, the bartender.
"Jamie O'Connor and me had a fight," says Paddy.
"That little ****, O'Connor," says Sean,
"He couldn't do that to you, he must have had something in his hand."
"That he did," says Paddy,
"A shovel is what he had, and a terrible lickin' he gave me with it."
"Well," says Sean,
"You should have defended yourself, didn't you have something in your hand?"
"That I did," said Paddy...
"Mrs. O'Connor's breast, and a thing of beauty it was, but useless in a fight."
over by a train. His arm is in a sling, his nose is broken, his face is
cut and bruised and he's walking with a limp.
"What happened to you?" asks Sean, the bartender.
"Jamie O'Connor and me had a fight," says Paddy.
"That little ****, O'Connor," says Sean,
"He couldn't do that to you, he must have had something in his hand."
"That he did," says Paddy,
"A shovel is what he had, and a terrible lickin' he gave me with it."
"Well," says Sean,
"You should have defended yourself, didn't you have something in your hand?"
"That I did," said Paddy...
"Mrs. O'Connor's breast, and a thing of beauty it was, but useless in a fight."