An Irishman walks into a pub in Toronto and order two pints of Guinness, sits down and drinks them quietly, alternating sips from each jar. He goes back to the bar for refills occasionally, always ordering two pints at a time, and drinking from them alternately.
After this practice is observed by the locals for several nights running, someone finally asks his why he drinks two pints at a time. "Oh," he chuckles, "you see my brother and I always went to the pub in our village together in the evenings to drink our pints. Last year we decided to emigrate, and he moved to Australia and I moved to Canada. Drinking the two pints together is just a way to remember him by." The people are so moved that they buy him his next two pints.
A few weeks later, at the end of February, the Irishman walks into the pub, orders just a single pint, and sits down to drink it. A hush comes over the room as people point and whisper, assuming that something terrible has happened to his brother. Finally, the barman calls over to him, "Paddy, is everything alright in Australia?" The Irishman looks up, sees everyone gazing at him and waves his hand in the air with a good-natured grin, "Oh yes, yes, thanks. Everything's fine. See, I gave up drinking for Lent, so it's just my brother's pints I'll be having tonight."