"She's gone in now," announced the faithful sentinel, withdrawing from his post.
"All right! take hold of this crust and pull it down on that side, and that'll be another pie done," said the remorse-stricken George Augustus.
SHWATE KITTIE KEHOE.
BY JAMES CLARENCE HARVEY.
Shwate Kittie Kehoe,
Can ye tell, I do' know.
Phwat the mischief's about ye that bothers me so?
For there's that in yer eye.
That I wish I may die
If it doesn't pursue me wherever I go.
Och hone!
Shwate Kitty Kehoe.
It's a livin' disgrace
That yer shwate purty face
Should be dhrivin' me sinses all over the place!
I go this way an' that,
Loike a man fur a hat,
Wid the wind up an alley-way, runnin' a race.
Och hone!
Shwate Kittie Kehoe.
Oh! Faith, but I'm sad,
Fur to know that I'm mad,
That only intinsifies all that is bad;
But phwat can I do,
Whin a shwate smile from you
Turns everythin' rosy and makes me sowl glad?
Och hone!
Shwate Kittie Kehoe.
Shwate Kittie Kehoe,
I beg of ye, go
To the outermost inds of the earth, I do' know;
If ye'll only do this,
Jist lave me wan kiss,
An' I'll die whin yer sthartin', Shwate Kittie Kehoe.
Och hone! Och hone!
Shwate Kittie Kehoe.