And here's another.
Two Irishmen were in Berlin at a music hall, and just in front of them sat two officers with their shakos on their heads.
Leaning forward, with a reputation for courtesy to sustain, one of the Irishmen said, pleasantly, "Please remove your helmet; I can't see the stage for the plume."
By way of reply the German officer insolently flipped the Irishman in the face with his glove.
In a second the Irishman was on his feet and in another second the officer's face was bleeding from a crashing blow.
Satisfaction having been thus obtained, the two Irishmen left the cafe and returned to their hotel, where they boasted of the affair.
Fortunately kind friends at once showed them the necessity of immediately crossing the frontier.
That the Irishman had not been run through by the officer's sword was due to the fact that he was a foreigner.
Speaking of fights, the other day an American friend of mine was taking a walk in Dublin and he came on a street fight. Four men were engaged in it, and no one else was interfering. Passers by glanced over their shoulders and walked on. Two women, evidently related to the contestants, stood by awaiting the result.
My friend mounted a flight of steps and watched the affair with unaffected interest.