"I think," replied Pat, "if yer stand me a pint I could put yez on a plan to sell eleven barrels a week."
"Agreed," said the landlord, handing him a pint. "How now am I to do it?"
Pat, taking a big drink at his new pint, "Always fill your glasses."
An Irishman who was rather too fond of strong drink was asked by the parish priest:
"My son, how do you expect to get into Heaven?"
The Irishman replied:
"Shure, and that's aisy! When I get to the gates of Heaven I'll open the door and shut the door, and open the door and shut the door, an' keep on doing that till St. Peter gets impatient and says, 'For goodness' sake, Mike, either come in or stay out!'"
Soon after a certain judge of the Supreme Court of Rhode Island had been appointed he went down into one of the southern counties to sit for a week. He was well satisfied with himself.