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Ian Paisley was walking down Church Street in Ballymena when a well-dressed man got out of a Mercedes, rushed up to him and shook his hand.
'Mr Paisley, sir,' he said, 'I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart.'
'Oh?' said Paisley. 'Why's that?'
'It's like this,' said the man. 'Three years ago I was on the verge of bankruptcy when I went to one of your sermons about temperance. It was the one about the alcoholic who spent all his money in the tavern, so that his wife and children went about barefoot, while the family of the tavern owner dressed in the finest silks and linens.'
'Ah, yes, I remember that one well,' said Paisley. 'And you're telling me that you gave up the drink there and then and turned to the narrow path of righteousness, is that it?'
'Not at all,' said the man. 'I'm telling you that I got a bank loan and bought a pub.'


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