Joining the other labourers, Pete picked up the only shovel he could find.
'Don't use that shovel. If Big Jamie sees you with his shovel he'll kill you!'
So Pete looked around and grabbed the only pick he could find.
'For God's sake put down that pick,' said another That's Big Jamie's pick.
If he sees you with that he'll kill you.'
Come tea break and Pete had done no work, but fancied a mug of tea. Picking
up the only free mug on the tray, he was warned:
'That's Big Jamie's mug. If Big Jamie sees you with that mug he'll kill you!'
'That does it,' screamed McCarthy. 'I'm sick to death of hearing about this
Big Jamie. I'm going to sort him out. Where does he live?'
'Winslow Street - number 7.'
So McCarthy grabbed a shovel and marched off to Winslow Street, hammered on
the door, brushed past the little old lady who opened it and stormed into the
house. From an upstairs room he could hear monstrous snoring noises so up he ran
and burst into the bedroom. There on a bed lay a giant, six feet four inches,
at least 18 stones, covered in hair.
Without a word McCarthy laid into the beast with his shovel - crash! clang!
'Merciful heavens,' screamed the little old lady. 'If Big Jamie sees you hitting
the baby he'll kill you!'