Into a Belfast pub comes Paddy Murphy, looking like he'd just been run > over by a train. His arm is in a sling, his nose is broken, his face > is cut and bruised and he's walking with a limp. "What happened to > you?" asks Sean, the bartender. > > "Jamie O'Conner and me had a fight," says Paddy. > > "That little ****, O'Conner," says Sean, "He couldn't do that to you, > he must have had somethin' in his hand. > > "That he did," says Paddy, "a shovel is what he had, and a terrible > lickin' he gave me with it." > > "Well," says Sean, "you should have defended yourself, didn't you > have something in your hand?" > > "That I did," said Paddy. "Mrs. O'Conner's breast, and a thing of > beauty it was, but useless in a fight."