Three Irishmen, drunk as can be, come staggering down the street singing Danny Boy at the top of their lungs.
 
They stop in front of Flaherty's house still singing.

After a few minutes the window flies open and Mrs. Flaherty yells out, "Why don't you drunken blokes go somewhere else!"

"Are you Mrs. Flaherty? asks one of the drunks.

"Begorra! You know darn well I'm am!" she says.

"Well, begg'n your pardon, missus, can you tell us which one of us is your husband so the other two of us can go home?"