"'It's faithless to Saint Tammany ye are,' O'Grady cried,—
And wilder, madder, grew the jig as he the fiddle plied,—
'It's faithless to Saint Tammany, who bids the Irishman
Attain the highest office in this country that he can.'
"'Och hone!' says poor O'Mulligan, 'it's pretty well I've done,
To be a School-Commissioner before I'm thirty-one;
'Tis barely just a year to-day since I set out from Cork,
And now, be jabers! don't I hold an office in New York?'
"'Why, true for you, O'Mulligan,' O'Grady roared again;
'But what's a School-Commissioner to what ye should have been?