Mick and Paddy had promised their Uncle Seamus, who had been a seafaring gent, all his life, to bury him at sea when he died. Well, in due time, Seamus did pass away and the boys kept their promise. They set off with Uncle Seamus all stitched up in a sea burial bag and loaded onto their rowboat.

After a wee bit of rowin Mick said, De yer tink dis is fer enuff out, Paddy?'

Without a word Paddy slipped over the side only to find himself standing in water up to his knees.



'Dis'll never do, Mick; let's row some more.



After a bit more rowin Paddy slipped over the side again but the water was only up to his navel, so they rowed on.



Soon enough Mick asked Paddy, De yer tink dis is fer enuff out now Paddy?

Yet again Paddy slipped over the side and almost immediately said, No dis'll neva do, its only oop to me chest.'


So once again they put their backs into it and rowed and rowed and rowed. Finally, Paddy slipped over the side and disappeared.



Over a minute went by and poor Mick was really getting himself into a state when suddenly Paddy broke the surface of the water gasping for breath. Well is it deep enuff yet, Paddy?, asked Mick.

Aye it 'tis, said Paddy, Now hand me de shovel.