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There  was  Lord  Crow hurst  (I  knew him first
                                     When  only Mr*  lJips  he  was),
                                  And  Mick  O'Toole, the  great big fool.
                                    That after supper  tipsy  was.

                                  There was  Lord  Fin gall,  and  his  ladies  all.
                                    And  Lords  Killeen  and  Dufferin,
                                  And  Paddy Fife,  with  his  fat  wife;
                                    T  wondther  how  he  could  stuff her  in.
                                  There  was  Lord  Heifast,  that, by  me past,
                                    And  seemed to  ask  how should J  go  there?
                                  Arid  the  Widow  Macrae,  and  Lord A „  Hay,
                                    And tlie  Marchioness  of  Sligo  there.

                                 Yes;,  Jukes,  and  Earls,  and  diamonds,  and pearls.
                                    And pretty  girls,  was  sporting there;
                                 And  some beside  (the  rogues!)  I  spied,
                                    Behind the  winrUes,  coorting  there.
                                 O,  there's  one  I  know,  bedad  would show
                                    As  beautiful  as  any there,
                                 And  I'd  like  to  hear the pipers  blow,
                                    And shake  a  fut with  Fannv there.
                                                                  *>
                                                          W illiam   M a k k pkac k  T hack e r ay.




                                       *> THERE  W AS  A  CROOKED  MAN."
                       S   OME folks  ’re alters  findin’  fault  'nd  frettiii’  round  y 5  know.
                             The  older  that they  git  in  years  the wus  they  seem  tu  grow.
                              It’s  kinder  second  natur  tu  some folks  that  I  have found,
                              ’Nd  al]  the  fun  the}"  seem  tu  git is jest  to  fret  around.

                       If  it should  rain,  then  it’s  the  mud that  sets  ’em  all  awry;
                       If  it  don't  rain,  then  k's  the  dust  a-blowin'  in  their  eye ;
                       If  clouds arise,  of  cornin’  storms  they  are  a  willin'  reader;
                       ’ Nd if  the  day  is  clear  !nd  bright,  then  it:s  a weather-breeder.
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