But she stood like a pig wid her legs wide apart.
"Ochone! wirra-'sthrue! Arrah, what will I do?"
Cried Pat, as he sat in a terrible stew.
Then he called on the Saints, and he called on the d——
(I won't say the word—sure it wouldn't be civil!)
When, as good luck would be, by strowls Father Shee,
And he says, "My son Patsy! my son Pat!" says he,
'"Sich language is really shocking to me.
Sure, what is the matther?" "The matther!" says Pat