The cook, Nora, had announced her engagement to a frequenter at the kitchen, named Mike. But a year passed and nothing was heard of the nuptials. So, one day, the mistress inquired:
"When are you to be married, Nora?"
"Indade, an' it's niver at all, I'll be thinkin', mum," the cook answered sadly.
"Really? Why, what is the trouble?"
The reply was explicit:
"'Tis this, mum. I won't marry Mike when he's drunk, an' he won't marry me when he's sober."
The delinquent laggard swain had been telling of his ability as a presiding officer. The girl questioned him:
"What is the parliamentary phrase when you wish to call for a vote?"
The answer was given with proud certainty:
"Are you ready for the question?"
"Yes, dearest," the girl confessed shyly. "Go ahead."