Murphy had made a success of his life. He'd immigrated to America, joined the Cavalry and had risen to the rank of sergeant.
With any other regiment he'd have been set for life.
Unfortunately, his outfit was the 7th Cavalry and one bright morning he found himself in the middle of the battle of Little Big Horn.
Thousands of Indians surrounded him, Custer and the others were dead, and Murphy began to pray.
'Can anyone up there help me?' he begged as the Indians moved in on him.
From his saddle bag popped a leprechaun all dressed in green.
I will help you, Sergeant Murphy,' said the leprechaun, 'but you may not like the problem I set you.'
'Whatever it is I'll take it,' said the sergeant frantically.
'Well,' said the leprechaun, l will give you anything you want, rifles, pistols, horses, ammunition.
But here's the problem: whatever you ask for, the Indians will get two of'.
Murphy with hardly a second to think blurted out
‘Give me a glass eye
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Topic: Irishman at Little Bighorn (Read 645 times)