Paddy was found dead in his back yard, and as the weather was a bit on the warm side, the wake was held down to only two days, so his mortal remains wouldn't take a bad turn. At last his friends laid him in the box, nailed it shut & started down the hill into the churchyard.
As it was a long, sloping path and the mourners were appropriately tipsy, one fellow lurched into the gatepost as they entered the graveyard. Suddenly a loud knocking came from in the box. Paddy was alive!
They opened the box up and he sat up, wide eyed, and they all said, Sure, it's a miracle of God! All rejoiced & they went back and had a few more drinks but later that day, the poor lad died. Really died. Stone cold dead.
They bundled him back into his box, and as they huffed and puffed down the hill the next morning, the priest said, "Careful now, boys; mind ye don't bump the gatepost again"
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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