TIM O'HOWLIGAN'S LAMENT.
Air—"Arrah! darlints, we can't do without ye!"
Ah! shure boys, the world has gone crazy,
And there's plinty of throuble in shtore,
Ivery mornin' I wake up onaisy
Bekase I can't shleep any more.
'Twas Cromwell, bad scran to 'im, done it,
Him that murdhered King Charles, ochone!
And since the black villin begun it
Ould Erin's done nothing but groan,
And moan,
It would soften the heart of a shtone.
By the poker, I'm boilin' with passion
Whin I think of the laws that they make;
At a fair the bhoys heads ye can't smash in,
Nor get dacently dhrunk at a wake.
There's only twelve pince in a shillin',
And not more than two pints in a quart,
Onless you are cliver at fillin',
And can make it hould more than it ought.
Don't be caught,
Or, be jabers, they'll make you pay for't.
Where's the kings and the princes of Erin
That lived on purtaties and point,
And niver saw year out and year in
The divil a taste of a joint?
Thim toirants now buy all our bacon,
And the linen, and butther, and that,
All that grows in the counthry is taken
From Antrim to Mullinavat.
Poor Pat
Has to sell at a profut, that's flat.
Well, honies, I'll give ye a hint,
And let ivery one do it who can;
When the bag of thirteens is all spint,
Set up for a Parliament man.
Thim's the boys that gets lashins of drinkin',
And they dine wanst a week wid the Queen,
Where the glasses are niver done clinkin',
Wid the Royalties jokin' and spreein',
Jubileein',
And such doins as niver was seen.
A Complaint and Simple Remedy.— Among the Requests in our ecclesiastical contemporary, The Guardian, recently appeared one asking for an effectual way of "“exterminating dry rot, and preventing its re-appearance in a church.”" Why doesn't the reverend inquirer try somebody else's Sermons? Or have no Sermons at all?
Nothing more delights our old friend than to get hold of a real good word, and use it with effect. "I wish I knew what is going to win the Derby this year," observed her Niece. "Ah, my dear," replied her Aunt, "I might be able to tell you if I were a Vaccinator."
Best Day in the Week for making a Proposal of Marriage.—In London, Monday is the most appropriate, as being dedicated to the "Monday Pops."
Mr. Moriarty. "Look here, Ada, how much longer, for goodness' sake, are ye goin' to be Dressin' yourself?"
Voice from the Heights. "Only Ten Minutes, dear!"
Mr. Moriarty. "Well, all I can say is, if I've got to wait here Ten Minutes, I'll—I'll be off this Blessed Moment!"