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     An Irishman walks into a bar in Dublin, orders three pints of Guinness 
     and sits in the back of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in 
     turn. When he finishes them, he comes back to the bar and orders three 
     more.
     
     The bartender asks him, "You know, a pint goes flat after I draw it; 
     it would taste better if you bought one at a time."
     
     The Irishman replies, "Well, you see, I have two brothers. One is in 
     America, the other in Australia, and I'm here in Dublin.  When we 
     all left home, we promised that we'd drink this way to remember the 
     days when we drank together."
     
     
     The bartender admits that this is a nice custom, and leaves it there.
     
     The Irishman becomes a regular in the bar, and always drinks the same 
     way: He orders three pints and drinks them in turn.
     
     One day, he comes in and orders two pints. All the other regulars 
     notice and fall silent.
     
     When he comes back to the bar for the second round, the bartender 
     says, "I don't want to intrude on your grief, but I wanted to offer my 
     condolences on your great loss."
     
     The Irishman looks confused for a moment, then a light dawns in 
     his eye and he laughs. "Oh, no," he, says, "everyone's fine. 
     I've just quit drinking."