“We never needed any of them new-fangled scales in Ireland,” said O’Hara.
“There’s an aisy way to weigh a pig without scales. You get a plank and
put it across a stool. Then you get a big stone. Put the pig on one end
of the plank and the stone on the other end, and shift the plank until
they balance. Then you guess the weight of the stone and you have the
weight of the pig.”
* * * * *
The Irishman announced that he was about to be married.
“Married!” exclaimed his friend. “An old man like you?”
“Well, you see,” the old man explained, “it’s just because I’m getting an
ould bhoy now. ’Tis a foine thing, Pat, to have a wife near ye to close
the eyes of ye when ye come to the end.”
“Arrah, now, ye old fule!” exclaimed Pat. “Don’t be so foolish. What do
ye know about it? Close yer eyes, indade! I’ve had a couple of thim, an’,
faith, they both of thim opened mine!”
* * * * *
The Irishman was walking along the bank of the river. He was fuming with
rage, for that day he had a dispute with a neighbor over the ownership of
a pig. Suddenly a cry for help rent the air and, turning round, he saw a
man struggling in the water.
Seeing Mike on the bank, the man in the water waved his hand and shouted:
“Hey, mate, drope me a line!”
In a flash the man on the bank recognized his adversary in the pig
dispute. Thrusting his hands in his pockets he made to resume his walk,
remarking over his shoulder:
“Shure, but there ain’t no post offices where ye’re goin’ to!”
* * * * *
A ganger on one of our large lines of railways had a keen Irish wit. One
warm afternoon, while walking along the line, he found one of his men
placidly sleeping on the embankment. The “boss” looked disgustedly at the
delinquent for a full minute, and then remarked:
“Slape on, ye lazy spalpeen, slape on, fur as long as you slape you’ve
got a job, but when you wake up you ain’t got none.”
* * * * *