Etc., etc., etc.
When I called on him about three months before his death he told me he was then on his last legs; that he had enjoyed an uninterrupted state of health for upwards of ninety years; that he never had the headache, rheumatism, toothache or spasms, and that he had nothing to do with doctors’ bottles with collars round their necks, and look, says he, if you can find any of that craft on my chimney-piece. Before I close I must give another song of his:—
There was a wedding at Baltimore,
Of three score people lacking of four;
And you’re kindly welcome, welcome all,
And you’re welcome, gramachree, welcome all.
The priest of the parish got up at the dawn,
To marry brisk Flemming to sweet Susan Bawn;
And you’re kindly welcome, welcome all,
And you’re welcome, gramachree, welcome all.