It was raining hard and a big puddle had formed in front of a local pub.
An old Irish man stood beside the puddle holding a stick with a string on the end and jiggled it up and down in the water.
A curious gentleman asked what he was doing.
'Fishing,' replied the old man.
'Poor old bugger' thought the gentleman, so he invited the old man to have a drink in the pub.
Feeling he should start some conversation while they were sipping their whisky, the gentleman asked,
‘And how many have you caught?
'
'You're the eighth.'
--------------------
"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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