Bridget—(whispers) It’s a joyful occasion.
Patrick—Bedad, and it isn’t thin. It’s anything but a jyful occasion whin yez have a spache to make and can’t remimber a worrd av it! ’Twas Biddy and Katie wrote it, and begorry they’ll have to say it, if it’s said. The mate in the shell av it is this. We’ve got up this shindy fer the orphin in our midst, little Islie, bliss the blue eyes av her! who belongs to ivery one av us, and fer our own little childher as well—the poor little spalpeens that we’ve chated out av a Christmas ivery year because we wasn’t Carniggy’s. We’re a holdin’ it here in McCarthy’s fore room, be the razin that it’s the biggest room in the tinemint, with the ixciption of Opperman’s, which he ginerously offered, but which was so cluttered ’twould have taxed the patience av a saint to thry to pick it up. So it’s here, as yez see, and it’s wilcome yez are, ivery one, Catholic and heretic, Jew, and Gintile, to hilp kape the birthday av one little Child, by making other childer happy. Wilcome to iverybody. Wilcome to the Christmas at McCarthy’s. (sits down.)
(All, clapping and stamping.)
Foine! Great! (and so on.) (Every number on the program must be vociferously applauded.)
Katie—Nixt is a recitation by Patsy McCarthy, Junior.
Bridget—Shpake up, Patsy love, and do as well as ould Patsy did, now.
Patsy—
Bedad, Oi’m glad it’s Christmas time.
Oi’m glad we’ve got a tree.
Oi’m glad that something on it hangs,