Och, I know yez don’t; but ’twas a custom in the old country to give the orphans something when their father died.
An Irishman who was signing articles on board a ship began to write his name with his right hand, then, changing the pen to his left hand, finished it.
So you can write with either hand, Pat? asked the officer.
Yis, sor, replied Pat. Whin I was a boy me father (rist his soul) always said to me Pat, learn to cut yer finger nails wid your left hand, for some day ye might lose your right.
A good old Irish pastor was thanking his congregation for the many Easter offerings, and his tremulous voice told how great was his pleasure.
I want to thank the congregation, he said, for the many beautiful gifts from my people this glorious Easter Sunday. The plate donations were far in excess of my expectations, the candles were many and freely contributed, and the flowers were simply beautiful; but I want to say right here and now that the thing that touched my heart the most was whin little Mar-r-y Killy walked oop the aisle an’ laid an egg on the altar.