On his first trip to Ireland, a New Yorker noticed a small Irishman standing beside a long table with assorted skulls. "These are among the most famous Irishmen ever!" boasted the vendor. "James Joyce is over there. That one is Michael Collins. And this is St. Patrick."
"St. Patrick!" exclaimed the tourist as he plunked down £50, "I have to have that one!"
The tourist returned to New York and mounted the skull on the wall of his store. He made a fortune as patrons came from all over America to view it.
He retired a few years later, and returned to visit Ireland, the land that made him rich. In the lobby of the airport he saw the same little vendor. "See that one?" said the Irishman, pointing at a skull. "James Joyce. That one there is Michael Collins, and that one is St. Patrick."
"What!?" yelled the tourist. "I was here seven years ago and you sold me one a little bigger than that, and you told me that one was St. Patrick!"
"Oh yes, yes, I remember you!" stammered the Irishman. "But this little one, you see, was St. Patrick when he was a boy!"