An Irishman with one side of his face badly swollen stepped into Dr. Wicten's office and inquired if the dentist was in. "I am the dentist," said the doctor.
"Well, then, I want ye to see what's the matter wid me tooth."
The doctor examined the offending molar, and explained: "The nerve is dead; that's what's the matter."
"Thin, be the powers," the Irishman exclaimed, "the other teeth must be houldin' a wake over it!"
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