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'Conner and me had a fight," says Paddy.
"That little shit, O 'Conner," 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'Conner's breast, and a thing of beauty it was,
but useless in a fight." |
