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A man who married sixteen wives, for Poly-gamy's arrested;

A boy has swallow'd nine clasp knives, and all of them digested;

A cat has hatch'd young ducklings two, each one frisks and capers;

They're both alive-it must be true, because 'tis in the papers.

A lady, o'er fond of a glass (you must not think it fustian),

Has met her death so sad, alas! by brandy's hot cornbustion;

It burnt her vitals thro' and thro', she melted into vapours,

And ne'er seen since-it must be true, because 'tis in the papers.

A lady in the South of France, who'd been some five years married,

Was taken in a sort of trance, and coffin'd down and buried,

In six months' time she came to life, and from the grave's sad vapours

She walk'd away-it must be true, because 'tis in the papers.

A man, last week, down in the west, inclined to be a glutton,

He ate near half a bullock dress'd, and six raw legs of mutton

Drank porter, gallons twenty-two, which washed down all the capers,

In just an hour-it must be true, because 'twas in the papers.

Sweet Miss A., of ninety-eight, with Mr. B., of eighty,

Have enter'd holy wedlock's state, with both their purses weighty;

A son's already come to view, at which the old man

capers,

Depend upon't, it must be true, because 'tis in the

papers.

Some fishermen have lately seen, as lately they were roaming,

Four mermaids, handsome, sweet, and clean, their hair so tidy combing;

They let them have a nearer view, to see their frisks and capers,

Then they dived-it must be true, because 'tis in the papers.

Thus every day, nay, every hour, shows p'ainly what the news is,

And whether it be sweet or sour, informs us and

amuses;

Then let us give our best thanks to those who tell their capers,

And ev'ry day so thankful view the facts in all the papers.

THE OULD BOG HOLE.

THE pig is in the mire, and the cow is on the grass,
And a man without a woman is no better than an ass;
My mother likes the ducks, and the ducks like the
drake,

And sweet Judy Flanagan I'd die for her sake.
My Judy she's as fair as the flower on the lea,
She's neat and complete from the neck to the knee;
We met t'o her night our hearts to condole,
And I sat Judy down by the ould Bog Hole.
Singing-Cu-hla mavourneen, will you marry me?
Arrah, cushla mavourneen, wil you marry me?
Arrah, cushla mavourneen, will you marry me?
Would you fancy the bouncing young Barney Magee ?

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Then Judy she blushed, and hung down her head, Saying, Barney, you blackguard, I'd like to get wed;

But they say you're so rough, and you are such a rake"

"Don't believe it," says I, "for it's a l a mistake;
To keep you genteel I'll work at my trade,
I'll handle the shovel, the hook, and the spade;
The turf to procure which is better than coal,
And I'll work to my knees in the ould Bog Hole.

Singing, Cushla mavourneen, &c.

"Arrah, give me your hand, and consent just at once, Sure it's not every day you will get such a chance; When the priest makes us one, how happy I'll be With the beautiful, dutiful, Mistress Magee! Tho' the meal should be scarce we'll have praties enough,

And if you should long for more delicate stuff,

I'll take out the ould rod which my grandfather stole, And I'll go fish for eels in the ould Bog Hole.

Singing, Cushla mavourneen, &c.

"Fine children we'll have, for we must mind that, They'll be Darby and Barney, and Kitty and Pat; They'll be Judy so meek, and Mary so bluff""O stop! stop!" she cried, "have you not got enough?" "I have not," said I, sure I'll not be content Til you bring home as many as there's days in the Lent;

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How the neighbours will stare when we go for a stroil,

When we all promenade round the ould Bog Hole.”
Singing, Cushla mavourneen, &c.

"By the hokey !" says she, "I can scarcely refuse,
For Barney the blarney you know how to use;
You have bothered my heart with the picture you've
drawn,

If I thought I could trust you, the job might be done!"

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"Holy murder !" says I, "do you doubt what I say? If I thought 'twould convince you, I'd sware half a day;"

"Oh no," she replied, "it's of no use at all," Then she whispered consent by the oul i Bog Hols. "Then give me a kiss, my joy and delight!" "Be aisy you blackguard, until it's all right; Sure, after we're wed, we may kiss and condole, And fish for the eels in the culd Bog Hole."

YES, KIND SIR, AND THANK YOU
TOO.

THE ruddy morn blink'd o'er the brae,
As blithe I ganged to milk my kine,
When near the winding bourn of Tay,
Wi' bouny gait and twa black een,
A Highland lad sac kind me tent,
Saying,Sonsy lass, how'st a' wi' you!
Shall I your pail tak o'er the bent?"

'Twas, "Yes, kind sir, and I thank you too."

Again he met me i' the e'en,

As I was linkan o'er the lee,

To join the dance upon the green,

And said, "Blithe lass, I'se gang wi' thee."
Sae braw he looked i' th' highland gear,
His tartan plaid, and bonnet blue,
My heart straight whisper'd in my ear,
Say yes, kind sir, and I thank you too."

We danced until the gleaming moon
Gave notice that 'twas time to part;
I thought the reel was o'er too soon,
For au! the lad had stol'n my heart.
He saw me hame across the plain,

Then kissed sae sweet, I vow 'tis true,
That when he asked to kiss again,

'Twas, "Yes, kind sir, and I thank you too."

Grown bauld, he pressed to stay the night,
Then griped me close unto his breast-
"Howt lad! my mither sair would flyte,
Gin that I grant wi'out the priest :
Gang first 'fore him, gif ye be leel,

I ken right what I then maun do;
For ask to kiss me when you will,

'Twill be, 'Yes, love, and I thank you too.'"

FAITH, I'LL AWA' TO THE BRIDAL.

[Air-" Hie awa' to the Bridal."-PLANCHE.]

FAITH, I'll awa' to the bridal,

For there will be tippling there;
For my lady's a-going to be married,
To whom I do..'t know, and don't care.
But I know we shall all be as frisky
And tipsy as pipers, good lack;
And so that there's plenty of whisky,
She may marry the devil for Mac.

So, faith, I'll awa' to the bridal, &c.

I once left the bottle for Cupid,
And bade an adieu to my glass;

I simpered and sighed, and looked stupid,
And courted a cherry-cheek'd lass.
She turn'd out a jilt-'twere a lie should I
Say, that it gave me no pain;

For sorrowing made me so dry, that I
Took to my bottle again.

So, faith, I'll awa' to the bridal, &c.

They say there's five reasons for drinking,
But more, I'm sure, may be got;
For I never could find, to my thinking,
A reason why people should not.

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