Oh, begod, is that a fact? Hell be here in a minute and sure theres
no reason why I shouldnt draw his pint and maybe draw your first pint,
is there now?
There isnt, sir.
Uncle Pa comes in and tells me sit next to him against the wall.The
barman brings the pints, Uncle Pa pays, lifts his glass, tells the men in
the pub,This is my nephew, Frankie McCourt, son of Angela Sheehan,
the sister of my wife, having his first pint, heres to your health and long
life, Frankie, may you live to enjoy the pint but not too much.
The men lift their pints, nod, drink, and there are creamy lines on
their lips and mustaches. I take a great gulp of my pint and Uncle Pa
tells me, Slow down for the love o Jasus, dont drink it all, theres more
where that came from as long as the Guinness family stays strong and
healthy.
I tell him I want to stand him a pint with my last wages from the post
office but he says, No, take the money home to your mother and you
can stand me a pint when you come home from America flushed with
success and the heat from a blonde hanging on your arm.
The men in the pub are talking about the terrible state of the world
and how in Gods name Hermann Goering escaped the hangman an
hour before the hanging. The Yanks are over there in Nuremberg
declaring they dont know how the Nazi bastard hid that pill.Was it in
his ear? Up his nostril? Up his arse? Surely the Yanks looked in every
hole and cranny of every Nazi they captured and still Hermann wiped
their eye.There you are. It shows you can sail across the Atlantic, land in
Normandy, bomb Germany off the face of the earth, but when alls said
and done they cant find a little pill planted in the far reaches of Goer-
ings fat arse.
Uncle Pa buys me another pint. Its harder to drink because it fills
me and makes my belly bulge.The men are talking about concentra-
tion camps and the poor Jews that never harmed a soul, men, women,
children crammed into ovens, children, mind you, what harm could
they do, little shoes scattered everywhere, crammed in, and the pub is
misty and the voices fading in and out. Uncle Pa says, Are you all
right? Youre as white as a sheet. He takes me to the lavatory and the
two of us have a good long piss against the wall which keeps moving
back and forth. I cant go into the pub again, cigarette smoke, stale
Guinness, Goerings fat arse, small shoes scattered, cant go in again,
good night, Uncle Pa, thanks, and he tells me go straight home to my
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