A random remark, connecting Irishmen and beer, brought this nugget of information out of him-- They don't drink it, sir.

They can't drink it, sir.

Give an Irishman lager for a month, and he's a dead man.

An Irishman is lined with copper, and the beer corrodes it.

But whiskey polishes the copper and is the saving of him, sir.' At eight o'clock, promptly, we backed out and crossed the river.