Some time ago, an American spy was sent to a small town in Ireland to pick up some top-secret documents from a spy with the last name of Murphy. The American's instructions were to walk around town and stop in all the cafes, pubs, and shops until he found him. The American would find the spy by using a special secret phrase that only the spy would recognize. The American soon found himself on the way to the town. Walking on a deserted country road, he approached a farmer. "Hello," the American said. "I'm looking for a man named Murphy." "Well, you have certainly come to the right place," the farmer said. "In the village over the hill, nearly everybody is named Murphy. The owner of the local pub is named Murphy, the schoolteacher is named Murphy, the butcher is named Murphy, and the barber is named Murphy. Indeed, I myself am named Murphy." Ah! the American agent thought to himself, here's the man I'm looking for. He's disguised as a farmer. So the American said, "The eye of the sun is burning bright over the lakes of Dublin, and colleens are dancing in the streets." "Oh," said the farmer. "It is Murphy the spy you're seeking - he lives ten miles from here in the opposite direction."