Idly the American tourist watched the Cork man dig and turn over the soil. Eventually he called:
'Hey, buddy, what's that you're doing?'
'I'm digging potatoes, sor.'
'Potatoes? Those small things? You call them potatoes? Back home in Iowa we have potatoes ten times that size!'
'Yes, sor. But you see. We only grow them to fit our mouths!'
'Hey, buddy, what's that you're doing?'
'I'm digging potatoes, sor.'
'Potatoes? Those small things? You call them potatoes? Back home in Iowa we have potatoes ten times that size!'
'Yes, sor. But you see. We only grow them to fit our mouths!'
True unfortunately so often.
