Nun

Seamus staggered out-of the pub and bumped into a passing nun.
'Now will you leave the demon drink alone?' scolded the nun.
'To be sure and why should that be?' asked Seamus, ''Tis the very elixir of life.'
'It's a terrible shame,' continued the nun, 'that a fine young boy like you, that should be the pride and joy of your mother's grey hairs, would go down to the grave before her.'
'Oh, no, Sister,' protested Seamus, 'a little drink never 1
did a man no harm.'
'Will you not give over now,' said the nun, 'will the demon drink be the death of you then?'
'Now why should you call it the demon drink,' said Seamus, brazenly, 'have you ever tasted the stuff?'
'And why would I be doing such a terrible thing as that, my child,' cried the nun. 'Will you have me forsake my holy vows of temperance?'
'Go on, Sister,' persisted Seamus, 'it cannot be holy or righteous to condemn something which you know nothing about. I'll get you a drop and you can judge for yourself. What will you have?'
'Well,' said the nun, faltering, 'perhaps you're right, I shouldn't make the judgement so hastily after all.'
'Whisky? Brandy? Gin?' asked Seamus, pushing open the door of the pub.
'Oh now, I'm surely doing a terrible wrong thing,' said the nun, beginning to leave.
'Go on,, said Seamus, putting a hand on her shoulder, 'have a go!'
'Well, perhaps I should try a drop or two of that gin, only bring it to me in a teacup. It would be a shameful thing for a nun to be seen tasting liquor outside a public house.'
'Right,' said Seamus, going up to the bar. 'Pour me a gin, please, but put it in a teacup.'
'Good grief,' said the landlord, 'It's that alcoholic nun again.'