Walking in the country the other day, I overtook an elderly man who told me that he was "a bit of a farmer" by profession.
"You wear rather a lot of clothes for a man following such as arduous occupation," I remarked.
"Begob, now that ye mention it, I suppose I do," he said.
"But sure in the country we all believe in wearin' plenty o' clothes. When a man's young an' hardy he can afford to go about half-naked, like the girshas, but afther the age o'forty he must look afther himself. Just now I'm wearin' a red flannel shirt next me skin, an' over that a thick woollen singlet, an' on top o' that a rale flannel shirt. I've also a waistcoat, a second waistcoat made o' corduroy, an' this jacket. But I don't believe in coddlin' meself with an overcoat. When May is out I cast off the corduroy waistcoat, which I have in me possession for the last thirty years, but not another stitch do I take off."
The Irish Times, May 15th, 1931.