Two Irishmen, Pat and Mike, stood looking at bricklayers who were working
on a building that was being erected, when the following conversation was
overheard:
Mike—“Pat, kin yez tell me what kapes them bricks together?”
Pat—“Sure, Mike; it’s the mortar.”
Mike—“Not by a dom sight; that keeps them apart.”
* * * * *
“The noight was that dark, Moike,” said Pat, while relating a past
experience; “that no matther how far oi looked oi couldn’t see a step
ahead of me.”
* * * * *
An Irishman came home from work one day and said to his wife: “Mary, we
had an awful accident on the job to-day!”
“Was annyone hurt?” she asked.
“Well,” he said, “there was twenty-one Eyetalians and one Irishman
killed!”
“Well,” said she, “isn’t it too bad about the poor fellow!”
* * * * *
The train had stopped, and the fat old Irish woman put her head out of
the window and inquired of a young railway porter what it was stopping
for.
The young man was inclined to be facetious.
“Engine out late last night, ma’am,” he remarked, with a smile, “so she’s
got a thirst on her this morning; they’re giving ’er a drop o’ water.”
“And are ye shure it’s water?” queried the dame.
“If you’ll wait a minute I’ll inquire whether they’re givin’ ’er port
wine,” he grinned.
“Shure, and never mind, young man, don’t be troublin’ yoursilf,” came the
answer. “I thought, perhaps, by the way we’ve been gitting along, it was
sloe gin!”
* * * * *
O’Donohue:—Oi got the crate of chickens you was sendin’ me allright, but
next time Oi wist ye’d fasten them up, more securely. Comin’ from the
station the damn things get out. Oi spent hours scouring the neighborhood
and thin only found tin of them.
McGinty:—S-s-sh! Oi only sent six.
* * * * *