National Geographic : 1974 Sep
"True, lad. Why, 'twas a marvelous good time we had out of it." "How can that be?" I was baffled. "Well, in those days, the Irish buried any parcel, arm or leg or hand, that happened to become detached. It was given a proper burial-thinking, you know, that a person wants to walk into paradise with all his parts on. Well now, I went to the hospital where the man was lying there so sad, and he said to me, 'Patrick, me leg.' "I said to him, holding my hand up, 'The leg's been buried,' and I showed him the receipt from the funeral home, certifying to the proper burial, at a cost of $36.00. He paid me then and there, reaching up behind the pillow for an old black wallet, and he thanked me most heartfully. And my, did we ever have a party with that $36.00!" "But didn't you have to pay that money to the funeral home?" "For what? Michael O'Neill worked there and he had come out with the receipt all made out. That's where we had the party, in the back of the funeral home." "What did you do with the leg?" "Heaved it in the incinerator, lad! We figured St. Peter would let the poor man through after the life he'd led-leg or no. Why throw good money into the ground?" -- Y"