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 approaches and tells him,
"You know, a pint goes flat after I draw it, and 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 is in
Australia, and I'm in Dublin. When we all left home,
we promised that we'd drink this way to remember the
days we drank together. So I drink one for each o'me
brothers and one for me'self."

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 take 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
loss."

The Irishman looks quite puzzled for a moment, then a
light dawns and he laughs. "Oh, no, everybody's just
fine," He explains, "It's just that me wife had us
join that Baptist Church and I had to quit drinking.
Hasn't affected me brothers though."