My god! What happened to you?" the bartender asked Kelly as he hobbled in on a crutch, one arm in a cast.
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>"I got in a tiff with Riley."
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>"Riley? He's just a wee fellow," the barkeep said, surprised. "He must have had something in his hand."
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>"That he did," Kelly said. "A shovel it was."
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>"Dear Lord. Didn't you have anything in your hand?"
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>"Aye, that I did, Mrs. Riley's tit," Kelly said. "And a beautiful thing it was, but not much use in a fight."