IRISH WIT AND HUMOUR.

Digger (Invercargill RSA), Issue 28, 24 September 1920, Page 3

IRISH WIT AND HUMOUR.

Pat O'Brien gave a dinner, to which he invited three or four of his neighbours. Pat had allowed his wife to sook only one chioken. When dinner was served, Pat took possession of the carving knife, and, in a hospitable tone, said to Mrs Dugan : "What part of the f'owl will you have?" "A leg if you please," was the answer, "An* what part will yez have? Would you loike some of the white?" Pat inquir. ed of Mrs O'Hooligan. "An' a leg will do me," she ansyered. As each answered the part of the fowl she desired was given her. "What part will yez have, Moike Walsh?" Pat blandly inquired of his neighbour. "Oi belave Oi will have a leg too," said Mike in his most modest way, wishing to follow in the footsteps of the rest of the company. "Begorra," said Pat to Mickey, "what does yez think Oi'm carving — a spider?" "What I like about the Irish is that they are so modest and unassumxng." ' 'Holy smoke ! ' ' "Fact When an Irishman does anything great he does not go bragging of his ability as another man would. He merely brags about Ir eland. A bull is sometimes produced by the false use of a word, as in the case of an Irish watchman giving .evidence at a police office : "What is this man's offence?" "He was disorderly, your worship, m the strates, last night." "And did you give him warning before

you took him into custody?" "I did, your honour, I said to him Disparse !' " "They say its electricity," said Pat, as he stopped before the incandescent street lamp ; "but I'll be hanged if I can see how it is they make the hair pin burn in the bottle." Magistrate O'Brien is an Irishman f and intensely proud of his lineage. It is one point upon which it was not safe to chaff him. Recently a number of boys who had been arrested for some petty offence were taken before His Honour. Among them was one whose speech and general appearance stamped his as Italian. Somebody. had told the boy to give an Irish name and tell His Honour he was Irish. The Magistrate questioned the boys until he came to the young Italian. "What's yonr name?" he asked. "Mickey da Casey," replied the youngster, amid a roar of laughter. "I'm Irish." "Oh, it's Irish you are, are you?" smilinglv replied His Honour. "Well, so am I, and I'll just fine you ten dollars for insulting an honourable race. " Pat : "I came near selling my boots yes, terday." "You djd, sir ! Well it's lucky you didn't sell 'em. How did you come near doing it. "I had 'em half-soled." Outraged Irishman: "Gintlemin, I w'u'd loike to ask thim Amerikins wan thing : Who dug the canals of the country, but furrinei's? Who huilt the railruds ov the coontry but furriners? Who works the mines ov the coontry, but furriners ? Who does the votin' fur the coontry, But furriners? And who the divil discovered the coontry, but furriners?"-