An' the music of her laughin' chaff,
Was like a beggar's dhrame,
Whin he hears the silver jingle, and
His rags are out of sight!
I thought the dhrop of dhrink was free,
But throth I had to pay!
I thought it quare, but then I thought,
It was the fairy's way;
"Howld on" siz I, "she's thryin' me,
Have I an open heart,