An Irishman walked into a pub and sat down comfortably;
“What’ll ye have?” the keeper asked, and the Irishman asked for three —
Pints of Guinness draught and proceeded to sip each one;
Alternately, then ordered three more, when the first trio was done.
“Good Sir,” replied the barman, “I knows ye like ’em cold;
“But ye need not order’em three at a time, for me eye can keep a’hold —
“Of your situation and when ye begettin’ low;
“I’ll tap ye out a fresh one, it’s no trouble t’all, ye know!”
“You don’t understand, two brothers have I,” the man began to relate;
“One resides in Australia and t’other in a U.S. state,
“We long made a vow to each other that e’ery Saturday night;
“We’d still drink together and just so as I delight —
“In slakin’ me thirst, in this here place, me brothers do so as well;
“In local pubs wheres they be,” the Irishman did tell.
“What a WONDERFUL tradition!” the barman then did say;
And he set down many sets of drinks for the Irishman that day.
So, every week, the man came in and ordered his trio of beer;
But then one week, “Only two, please!” the barman oddly did hear.
The Irishman drank them alternately and then he ordered two more;
And slowly the barkeeper thought for a bit and then his heart grew sore.
The barman’s eyes welled up with tears, “I’m so sorry!” he cried;
“I know what your tradition is and I’m sorry your brother died!”
“You’re sorry that me brother died? Mister, just what ye be thinkin’?
“Me brothers are fine, alive and well – it’s just that I quit drinkin’!”
