Bein' hungry, God help me and happenin' to stop,
Just to dine on the shmell of a pasthry-cook's shop,
I saw, in the window, a large printed paper.
And read there a name, och! that made my heart caper--
Though printed it was in some quare ABC,
That might bother a schoolmaster, let alone _me_.
By gor, you'd have laughed Judy, could you've but listened,
As, doubtin', I cried, "why is it!--no, it _isn't_:"
But it _was_, after all--for, by spellin' quite slow,
First I made out "Rev. Mortimer"--then a great "O";
And, at last, by hard readin' and rackin' my skull again,
Out it came, nate as imported, "O'Mulligan!"
Up I jumpt like a sky-lark, my jewel, at that name,--
Divil a doubt on my mind, but it _must_ be the same
"Master Murthagh, himself," says I, "all the world over!
My own fosther-brother--by jinks, I'm in clover.
Tho' _there_, in the play-bill, he figures so grand,
One wet-nurse it was brought us both up by hand,
And he'll not let me shtarve in the inemy's land!"
Well, to make a long hishtory short, niver doubt
But I managed, in no time, to find the lad out:
And the joy of the meetin' bethuxt him and me,
Such a pair of owld cumrogues--was charmin' to see.
Nor is Murthagh less plased with the evint than _I_ am,
As he just then was wanting a Valley-de-sham;
And, for _dressin'_ a gintleman, one way or t'other,
Your nate Irish lad is beyant every other.
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