OT: There is a story about icebergs...
During the continued fighting in Ireland there was much consternation amongst the good folks of Belfast. They despised the English who had occupied the land and brought so much suffering to the Irish people.
Now an uneasy truce of sorts existed, as all men must feed the family. One of the largest employers was the shipyard where the Whire Star Liners were created. The Irish craftsmen toiled in the ways, assembling all from the massive steel plates to the fine wood work decorating the grand stair. As Titanic sailed away from Belfast for the maiden voyage and it's last ever cruise, the Irish workers cheered, not for the hated english owners or the passengers of wealth enough to parade the promenade. No, they cheered with the love and respect of the true crafstman for the materials they had wrought into so great a triumph.
A few days later news reached Belfast that the Titanic had struck a flo and then sunk with the loss of many lives. The White Star Line was confident though and required the construction of a replacement. Work was to be undertaken as soon as the construction crews could be assembled.
And so a cry was raised in every pub in Ireland, "Paddy -- We're gonna' need more ice!"
stakddek
++++++++++++++++++++++++
The Wearin’ o’ the Green
By Anonymous
OH, Paddy dear! and did ye hear the news that’s goin’ round?
The shamrock is forbid by law to grow on Irish ground!
No more St. Patrick’s day we’ll keep; his colour can’t be seen,
For there’s a cruel law ag’in’ the Wearin’ o’ the Green!
I met with Napper Tandy, and he took me by the hand, 5
And he said, “How’s poor ould Ireland, and how does she stand?”
“She’s the most distressful country that ever yet was seen,
For they’re hanging men and women there for the Wearin’ o’ the Green.
An’ if the colour we must wear is England’s cruel red,
Let it remind us of the blood that Ireland has shed; 10
Then pull the shamrock from your hat, and throw it on the sod,
An’ never fear, ’twill take root there, though under foot ’tis trod.
When law can stop the blades of grass from growin’ as they grow,
An’ when the leaves in summer time their colour dare not show,
Then I will change the colour, too, I wear in my caubeen; 15
But till that day, plaise God, I’ll stick to the Wearin’ o’ the Green.
