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To the fiddler, says Dermot M'Figg,
"Shelah na gig,"

If you'll please to play
We'll shake a loose toe,

While you humour the bow,
To be sure you won't warm the wig
Of M'Figg,

While he's dancing a tight Irish jig.

The meal man he looked very shy,
While a great big tear stood in his eye,
He cried L- -d how I'm kilt,
All alone for that jilt,

With her may the devil fly high

In the sky,

M

For I'm murder'd and don't know for why

Oh! says Dermot, and he in the dance, Whilst a step towards his foe did advance, By the Father of men,

Say but that word again,

And I'll soon knock you back in a trance

To your dance,

For with me you'd have but a small chance.

But says Katty, the darlint, says she,
If you'll only just listen to me,

It's myself that will show,

That he can't be your foe,

Though he fought for his cousin, that's me,

Says she,

For, sure, Billy's related to me.

For my own cousin-jarmin, Anne Wild,
Stood for Biddy Mulroony's first child,
And Biddy's step-son,

Sure he married Bess Dunn,
Who was gossip to Jenny, as mild

A child,

As ever at mother's breast smiled.

And may be you don't know Jane Brown, Who served goats' whey in sweet Dundrum town,

'Twas her uncle's half-brother

That married my mother,

And bought me this new yellow gown,

To go down,

Where the marriage was held in Milltown.

Oh then how the girls did look,
When the clergyman opened his book,
Till young Nelly Shine,

Tipt Dermot a sign,

Faith he soon popped her into a nook

Near the brook

And there he fell kissing the cook.

For a while she began for to cry,
Was poor girl so undone as I,

When the ladies came round,
Caught them both on the ground,

Their fingers they clapped to their eyes,

So sly

We're courting, said she, don't be shy.

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By the powers! then says Dermot, 'tis

plain,

Like the son of that rapscallion Cain,

My best friend I have kilt,
Though no blood there is spilt,

And the devil a harm did I mean,

That's plain,

But by me he'll be ne'er kilt again.

Then the meal man forgave him the blow,
That laid him a sprawling so low,
And being quite gay,

Asked them both to the play,

But Katty, being bashful, said no,

No, no,

Yet he treated them all to the show.

THE DARLIN' OULD STICK.

AIR-Teddy O'Toole.

My name is bold Morgan M'Carthy, from Trim,

My relations all died, except one brother Jim,

He's gone a sojering out to Cow bull (Cabool)

I dare say he's laid low with a knick in the skull;

But let him be dead or be living

A prayer for his corpse I'll be giving

To send him soon home or to heaven,
For he left me this darlin' ould stick.

If that stick had a tongue, it could tell you some tales,

How it battered the countenances of the O'Neills,

It made bits of skulls fly about in the air, And it's been the promoter of fun at each

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fair, For I swear by tl toe-nail of Moses! It has often broke bridges of noses, Of the faction that dare to oppose usIt's the darlin' kippeen of a stick.

The last time I used it, 'twas at Patrick's day,

Larry Fegan and I got into a shilley

We went on a spree to the fair at Athboy, Where I danced, and when done, I kissed Kate M'Evoy.

Then her sweetheart went out for his cousin

And by Jabers! he brought in a dozen;
A doldhrum they would have knocked us in,
If I hadn't the taste of a stick!

'War,' was the word, when the faction came in,

And to pummice us well, they peeled cff in their skin;

Like a Hercules there I stood for the attack, And the first that came up, I sent down on his back;

Then I shoved out the eye of Pat Clancy,
(For he once humbugged sister Nancy)
In the meantime poor Kate took a fancy,
To myself and a bit of a stick.

I smathered her sweetheart until he was black,

She then tipped me the wink—we were off in a crack

We went to a house t'other end of the town,

And we cheered up our spirits, by letting some down.

When I got her snug into a corner,

And the whiskey beginning to warm her She told me her sweetheart was an informer

Oh, 'twas then I said prayers for

my stick.

We got whiskificated to such a degree, For support my poor Kate had to lean against me;

I promised to see her safe to her abode, By the tarnal we fell clean in the mud, on the road;

We were roused by the magistrate's order,

Before we could get a toe further –

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