Not long ago a young Irishman was seeking work in western Illinois, and among those to whom he applied was a farmer near Cairo.
The farmer was attracted by the Celt’s frank, cheery manner, and, while he was not in need of help, he asked, after a pause:
“Can you cradle?”
“Cradle!” repeated the Irishman. “Sure, I can! But, sir,” he added persuasively, “couldn’t ye give me a job out of dures?”
Mrs. Murphy—“Oi hear yer brother-in-law, Pat Keegan, is pretty bad off.”
Mrs. Casey—“Shure, he’s good for a year yit.”
Mrs. Murphy—“As long as that?”