It's an early evening in a dark and smoky downtown bar.  Two men are
sititing side by side on barstools, quaffing beer and talking.
     "Hey," says the first one, "you're Irish, aren't you?  I'd recognize
that accent anywhere!"
      "Of course I'm Irish," says the second man.
     "Well, saints be praised, so am I!"  replies the first.  "Let me buy
you a beer."
     So Joe the bartender brings each of them another beer.  After a bit,
the second man asks the first, "What part of the auld sod is your family from?"
     "Dublin," comes the reply.
     "Really?  That's where my family is from!  My turn to buy YOU a drink."
   So the second man calls over the bartended and they toast one another with
their beers and keep talking.
     "Where exactly in Dublin are you from?"  asks the second man.
     "We lived on Killarney Street, on the west side of town," answers the
first.
     "I can't believe this!" cries the second man.  "I used to live on
Killarney Street, too."  He waves at the bartender:  "Joe, I want to buy
this man another beer,  and pour one for yourself while you're about it."
     So, Joe brings over two more beers and pours one for himself.  "Wow,
says the first man.  "This is really amazing!  What was your mother's
name?"
      "Her name was Mary, may she rest in the arms of our heavenly Father,"
comes the reply.
     "What!"  Gasps the first man.  "My mothers name was also Mary, may she
rest in peace.  Joe -- tell everyone in the place that the next round's on
me!"
     So, Joe sets up everyone in the place with their next drink.
     About this time, another man comes in and sits down at the far end of
the bar and motions for Joe to bring him a whiskey.
     "Hiya, Joe," he says, reaching for his wallet.  "How're things?"
     "Same-old, same-old,"  Joe answers, polishing a bit of brass with his
apron.  "The grill's on the fritz, the wife's sore at me, and -- oh, yeah
the Murphy twins are plastered again."