| There once was a whisky maker named Sean Finnegan
who had two sons. Ian, the eldest son, worked hard in his father’s
distillery, learning the craft of whisky making in the hopes that
he might inherit the business one day. The younger son, Kip, had no
such ambition, preferring to spend his days roaming the streets of
Dublin and his nights carousing in the pubs with his friends.
Disheartened with
his younger son’s behavior and worried for his future, Finnegan
booked a one-way passage for him on a merchant ship, hoping that
Kip would return from his travels a wee bit wiser and ready to earn
his keep.
Kip spent five years traveling the world. Everywhere he went, he
sought out the warm hospitality of the local drinking establishments.
He was quick to make friends and spread good cheer, as only an Irishman
can. When he reached America, Kip vowed to cross the entire land
but made it only as far as Minnesota, where he met a lass with eyes
so blue and hair so fair as to bring an end to his wild rover days.
Kip’s lass was named Molly and he vowed to love her until
the end of his days. He wrote to his father and told him of his
adventures, his bride-to-be, and his wish to open a pub where travelers
would always be welcome to rest their weary feet, enjoy a good meal
and warm hospitality, and raise a glass to their homeland.
Sean Finnegan was delighted at the news that his son was finally
ready to settle down—and in the whisky trade, no less! He
set out at once to find the perfect wedding gift and at last settled
on the copper kieve that had stirred the mash for many a batch of
his fine Irish whisky. Today the kieve holds a place of honor above
the bar in Kip’s Pub, where you are welcome to raise a glass
or a pint of ale and bend the barkeep’s ear with tales of
your own adventures.
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