"You're right, my boy; hould up your head, And look like a jintleman, Sir; Sir Isaac Newton - who was he?

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Now tell me if you can, Sir." 'Sir Isaac Newton was the boy

That climbed the apple-tree, Sir;

He then fell down and broke his crown, And lost his gravity, Sir."

"You're right, my boy; hould up your head, And look like a jintleman, Sir;

Jist tell me who ould Marmion was
Now tell me if you can, Sir."
"Ould Marmion was a soldier bold,
But he went all to pot, Sir;

He was hanged upon the gallows tree,
For killing Sir Walter Scott, Sir."

"You're right, my boy; hould up your head,
And look like a jintleman, Sir;
Jist tell me who Sir Rob Roy was;
Now tell me if you can, Sir."

"Sir Rob Roy was a tailor to

The King of the Cannibal Islands; He spoiled a pair of breeches, and

Was banished to the Highlands."

You're right, my boy; hould up your head, And look like a jintleman, Sir;

Then, Bonaparte - say, who was he? Now tell me if you can, Sir." "Ould Bonaparte was King of France

Before the Revolution;

But he was kilt at Waterloo,

Which ruined his constitution."

You're right, my boy; hould up your head, And look like a jintleman, Sir;

Jist tell me who King Jonah was;

Now tell me if you can, Sir."

King Jonah was the strangest man

That ever wore a crown, Sir;

For though the whale did swallow him,
It couldn't keep him down, Sir."

"You're right, my boy; hould up your head, And look like a jintleman, Sir;

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Jist tell me who that Moses was;

Now tell me if you can, Sir." Shure Moses was the Christian name

Of good King Pharaoh's daughter; She was a milkmaid, and she took

A profit from the water."

"You're right, my boy; hould up your head, And look like a jintleman, Sir;

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Jist tell me now where Dublin is;

Now tell me if you can, Sir."

'Och, Dublin is a town in Cork,

And built on the equator;

It's close to Mount Vesuvius,

And watered by the 'craythur.'"

"You're right, my boy; hould up your head,
And look like a jintleman, Sir;
Jist tell me now where London is;
Now tell me if you can, Sir."
"Och, London is a town in Spain;
'Twas lost in the earthquake, Sir;
The cockneys murther English there,
Whenever they do spake, Sir."

"You're right, my boy; hould up your head,
Ye're now a jintlemàn, Sir;

For in history and geography
I've taught you all I can, Sir.

And if any one should ask you now,
Where you got all your knowledge,
Jist tell them 'twas from Paddy Blake,
Of Bally Blarney College."

James A. Sidey

THE OWL-CRITIC

"Who stuffed that white owl?" No one spoke in the shop,

The barber was busy, and he couldn't stop;

The customers, waiting their turns, were all reading

The Daily, the Herald, the Post, little heeding

The young man who blurted out such a blunt question;
Not one raised a head, or even made a suggestion;

And the barber kept on shaving.

"Don't you see, Mr. Brown,”

Cried the youth, with a frown,

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How wrong the whole thing is,

How preposterous each wing is,

How flattened the head is, how jammed down the neck is

In short, the whole owl, what an ignorant wreck 'tis !

I make no apology;

I've learned owl-eology.

I've passed days and nights in a hundred collections,

And cannot be blinded to any deflections

Arising from unskilful fingers that fail

To stuff a bird right, from his beak to his tail.

Mister Brown! Mister Brown!

Do take that bird down,

Or you'll soon be the laughing-stock all over town!"
And the barber kept on shaving.