A gallon he drank from the quart,
And then placed it full on the table.
“A miracle!” every one said,
And they all took a haul at the stingo;
They were capital hands at the trade,
And drank till they fell; yet, by jingo,
The pot still frothed over the brim!
Next day, quoth his host, “’Tis a fast,
And I’ve naught in my larder but mutton;
And on Fridays, who’d make such repast,