Ferguson the blacksmith came in with a badly damaged foot. The doctor was surprised, for Ferguson was a careful man.
"What happened to you, Paddy?" he asked.
"Well, thirty-three years ago I was a young apprentice with Twomey of Ballinanaspickbuidhe......"
"But about your foot.....?"
"This is about me foot. Twomey had a daughter and your eyes could gaze on her like the way a bullock would eat good grass. The first night I was there she came in when I was in bed and asked if I was comfortable and if I wanted anything and I said I didn't. The next night she came in when I was in bed and she wearing her nightdress and she asked me if there was any single thing she could get me or do for me and I told her I was as comfortable as a bug in a rug. The next night she came in and the girl hadn't a thing on her and she asked me if she could do anything for me and not wanting to keep her standing in the cold and she without a shift I said there was nothing."
"What has that got to do with your foot, Ferguson?" asked the doctor impatiently.
"Sure it was only this morning that I finally thought of what she meant and I was so annoyed with meself that I threw me ten-pound hammer against the wall and it rebounded and broke me ankle."
Happy Saint Patrick's Day