Thin spakin' wid the dacency, of a remorseful tone,
"In fact," siz I, "me car's engaged, in Bray, by Mick Malone;
Besides the mare is nervous, an' me wife expects me soon,
For the army's out, I hear, upon the road to Knockmaroon!"
He didn't stop to parley, but he jumped upon me car,
An' showed a livin' pixture, of the brakin' of the war,
By pointin' a revolver at me nose! "I'm John McKune,
Dhrive on," siz he, "I'll guard you on the road to Knockmaroon!"
I never knew that powdher smelt so flamin' strong before,