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If you have learnt your letters,
You're as good, ay, as you're betters ;
Just answer this-'tis not amiss,
"Twill prove you know your letters.

You'll give it up-you'll give it up ? (Spoken.) Why are the letters of the alphabet (except the first three) like exiles ? D'ye give it up? 'Cause they are beyond C.

Tol lol, &c.
Another I don't lack man,
The subject is a black man :
I'll tell you all, that a snow ball
Is like a little black man.

D'ye give it up ? d'ye give it up ? (Spoken.) Why is a short black man like a snow. all? D'ye give it up ? 'Cause he's not a-tall black.

Tol lol, &c.
Here's another now quite handy,
The subject is a dandy ;
Can you descry, and tell me why
A haunch of venison's like a dandy ?

· D’ye give it up ? d'ye give it up? (Spoken.) Why is a dandy like a haunch of venison? D'ye give it up ? 'Cause he's a bit of a buck.

Tol lol, &c.
A new one I've been picking,
It is a little chicken ;
I'll prove the while, when you shall smile,
You're like a little chicken.

D'ye give it up ? d’ye give it up? (Spoken.) Why are two persons smiling at each other like the wings of a chicken? D'ye give it up! 'Cause there's a merry thought between them.

Tol lol, &c.

Now my song is nearly ended,
And if you're not offended,
I'll take delight new ones to write,
Till my subjects are all ended.

You'll give 'em up! you'll give 'em up. (Spoken.) Why is my song like Hampton Court ? D'ye give it up ? 'Cause 'tis surrounded by puzzles!

(Spoken.) Why is my song like a house without a roof! D'ye give it up? 'Cause 'tis capable of the greatest improvement!

Tol lol, &c.


[HARBY CARBY.] At the side of the road, near the bridge of Drum

condra, Was Murrough O’Monaghan stationed to beg ; He had brought from the war, as his share of the

plunder, A crack on the crown and the loss of a leg. Oagh, Murrough !" he'd cry, “musha nothing may

harm you,

What made you go fight for a soldier on sea ? You fool, had you been a marine in the army,

You'd now have a penshion and live on full pay.

“But, now I'm a cripple, what argufies thinking ?

The past I can never bring round to the fore ; The heart that with old age and weakness is sinking,

Will ever find strength in good whisky galore ! Oagh, whisky, my jewel, mavourneen, my joy, and my

What signifies talking of doctors and pills ?
In sorrow, misfortune, and sickness so cruel,
A glass of North-Country, can cure all our ills.

“When cold, in the winter, it warms you so hearty ;

When hot, in the summer, it cools you like ice; In trouble-false friends, without grief I can part you,

Good whisky's my friend, and I take its advice! When hungry and thirsty, 'tis meat and drink to me;

It finds me a lodging wherever I lie ; Neither frost, snow, nor rain, any harm can do ine

The hedge is my pillow, my blanket the sky.

• Now, merry be Christmas! success to good neigh

bours, Here's a bappy new year, and a great many too ! With plenty of whisky to lighten their labours,

May sweet luck attend every heart that is true !" Pur Murrough then joining his two hands together, High held up the glass, while he vented this

prayer· May whisky, by sea or by land, in all weathers, Be never denied to the children of care !"


A WIDOW. Tuomas Hudson.] {linn

Air" Bridesmaids' Chorus,"



court a maid,
Call to your

Every expression of tenderness;

Soft balmy sighs,

Do more than words can express.

Absent, swear
Ilow dolefully long time lingers ;

Present, have bliss

In a little kiss,
And a squeeze of her pretty little fingers.

Do this three monils,
She's your own.


If a widow's in your string,

'Tis quite a different thing : Let your professions of love be warm ;

Soft balmy sigh,

Then do not try,
Oh no! you must court her by storm.

Kiss and smack,
You're sure to succeed by one trial ;


And be kiss'd
In return by her, no widow will make a denial.

Do this three days,
She's your own.


If you'd travel the wide world all over,

And sail across quite round the globe, You must set out on horseback from Dover,

And sail unto sweet Balinrobe. 'Tis there you'll see Ireland so famous,

That was built before Adam was breech'd, Who liv'd in the reign of King Jamus,

Ere he was at the Boyne over-reach'd. With my whack fal de lal, fal fal de lal lee,

Oh, the land of sbillelab for me.

There you'll see Ulster, and Munster, and Lein

Connaught, and sweet Kilkenny likewise ;
That city, where first as a spinster

I open'd these pair of black eyes ?
In this town there is fire without smoking,

For a penny you'd buy fifty eggs,
And there is such wit without joking,

And rabbits without any legs.

There you'll see my ancestors glorious,

The sons of the brave O's and Mac's,
Who died whene'er they were victorious,

And after that ne'er turn'd their backs.
Our heads are stout and full of valour,

Our hearts are wise and full of brains,
In love we ne'er blush nor change colour,

And the ladies reward all our pains.
St. Patrick is still our protector,

He made us an island of saints,
Drove out snakes and toads like a Hector,

And ne'er shut his eyes to complaints.
Then if you'd live and be frisky,

And never die when you're in bed,
Come to Ireland and tipple the whisky,

And drink ten years after you're dead.


[Tune—“Captain Wattle." AT Chambers, in Gray’s-inn, dwelt one Mr. Puddy, Who drank deep of Law, tho' a very dry study ; Altho' but Attorney, he hop'd to rank higher, And digested Coke, as he stirr'd up his fire, 'Till a widow (the front of whose house had a hatch.

ment), With her cash and her charms made him have an Ato

tachment; Love in his net this poor lawyer did draw : When Cupid co:nmands-good bye to all Law. The widow was fair, had an eye which was as light As evening star, or as bright as a gas-light; Mr. P. found himself in a queer situation, Commenc'd Suit, and made a Writ-ten Declaration, Pleaded his Causc, and wish'd to make end on't ; Himself was the Plaintiffthe widow Defendant : Put in Brief for his Plea, oh she car'd not a straw, When Cupid commands—good bye to all Law.

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