You know, many American ancestors came from Ireland, and we owe a lot to them. Much of our whit, humor and culture has roots back in Ireland. I wonder about our common sense, though.
Once there was an Texan who went to Ireland for a visit. He thoroughly enjoyed himself roaming the countryside and exploring the hill farms east of Galway. Everything was so beautiful and green! One day he stopped in at a pub for lunch. An Irish farmer was sitting alone at a table, so the Texan, wanting to talk to a real native, asked if he could join him. Soon they were happily comparing notes about their farms.
"How big is your spread?" asked the American.
"Well look you, it's about 20 acres," the Irish farmer boasted proudly.
"Only 20 acres?" the American said, "Why, back in Texas I can get up at sunrise, saddle my horse and ride all day. When I return at supper time, I'll be lucky if I've covered half my farm."
"Begora," said the Irishman. "Once I had horse like that, but I sent him off to the knackers yard."
Later, this same Irishman sold a donkey to his friend Michael. They met at a pub some weeks later, and Michael said, "Hey, Finnegan, that donkey you sold me went and died."
Finnegan looked at his friend in suprise and said, "Bejabbers, Michael, it never done that on me."
(thanks to guy-sports.com/humor/saints/saint_patrick for both of these stories)
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