Corned beef

Paddy O'Flaherty had been ill for some time and he knew he was not long
for this world. But one morning the smell of corned beef and cabbage
reached his nostrils and quite perked him up.
Feebly, he called his son. "As one of my last requests please
fetch me a plate of that lovely corned beef I can smell your mother
cooking."
The lad was back in a trice. "Mum says you can't have any. It's
for the wake."

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