It was raining hard and a big puddle had formed in front of an Irish pub. An old man stood beside the puddle holding a stick with a string on the end and jiggled it up and down in the water. A curious gentleman asked what he was doing. 'Fishing,' replied the old man.

'Poor old fool' thought the gentleman, so he invited the old man to have a drink in the pub.

Feeling he should start some conversation while they were sipping their whisky, the gentleman asked, ‘And how many have you caught?''
You're the eighth.' said the old man.