The bartender approaches and tells him, “You know, a mug goes flat after I draw it, it would taste better if you bought one at a time.”
The cowboy replies, “Well, you see, I have two brothers. One is in Australia, the other is in Dublin, and I’m in Texas. When we all left home, we promised that we’d drink this way to remember the days we drank together. So I drink one for each o’ my brothers and one for myself.” The bartender admits that this is a nice custom, and leaves it there.
The cowboy becomes a regular in the bar, and always drinks the same way. He orders three mugs and drinks them in turn. One day, he comes in and orders two mugs. All the regulars take notice and fall silent. When he comes back to the bar for the second round, the bartender says, “I don’t want to intrude on your grief, but I wanted to offer my condolences on your loss.”
The cowboy looks quite puzzled for a moment, then a light dawns and he laughs. “Oh, no, everybody’s just fine,” he explains. “It’s just that my wife had us join that Mormon Church and I had to quit drinking. — Hasn’t affected my brothers though!”