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 shit, " says Sean. "He couldn't do that to you, he must have had something 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 own hand?"

"That I did," said Paddy.

"Mrs. O'Conner's breast, and a thing of beauty it was, but useless in a fight."