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In town for market day, the farmer hopped into a newly opened Chinese Restaurant to purchase a packet of cigarettes at the counter. 'Twenty Number 6', he said. He got a stone of Chop Suey.

Rain had interrupted the harvesting and the two farmers were huddled in a ditch trying to boil a kettle on a bit of a fire they had lit. They were wet, cold and miserable and longing for the kettle to boil so that they could make tea. They watched and watched and eventually the steam began to cause the lid of the kettle to bounce. "Tis boiling at last,' said the first farmer. "Tis only shivering with the cold,' said the other.

A Kerry farmer was driving in an area with which he was not familiar when he came across a lorry stuck under a low bridge. He got out of his car and asked the lorry-driver, "Where are you bringing the bridge to?'

Two spinsters had lived alone on the farm for many years. They had a she-cat of which they were extremely fond and, fearing her being molested by the coarse torn cats in the neighbourhood, they kept the pussy indoors at all times. To everybody's surprise, one of the ladies got married and went on her honeymoon, leaving her sister alone with the pussy awaiting a letter from the newly-wed. After about a week a postcard arrived. It simply read: 'Let out the pussy.'

When the same old spinsters got a television set they tuned it to a programme in which there was a snow-scene in New York and they expressed the forecast: 'It's snowing over there well have it here in a few days.'

Years before that, the dear ladies had their house wired for electricity during the Rural Electrification Scheme. When the electricians were finished the sisters asked them how they were going to climb up to light the bulb.

Describing the ballet dances he had seen on-TV, the farmer said: The women are like a lot of little mushrooms.'

Farmer (to wife): 'Why can't you make bread like my mother?'
Wife: 'Why can't you make dough like my father?'

During the First World War a farmer was surprised on going into the cow-byre at seeing his soldier son, whom he thought to be fighting in France, sitting milking a cow. 'Shouldn't you be at the front?' said the farmer. 'Now Da, I haven't forgotten where the cow has her milk,' replied the son.

What goes pit a pat Ooh, pit a pat Ooh?
A Dashund walking down a bumpy lane.


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