LIFE IN IRELAND 



My secrets in future to thee I '11 reveal 'em ! 



Peg smiling look'd up, and encircling his waist, 

 If you go to the widow's and do drink, dear Phelim, 



If you do take a whet, ask your Peggy to taste. 

 Away stagger'd Phelim, and Peggy beside him. 



Where Costigan's malt was chalk'd over the door, 

 Crying, Bad luck to tipplers I misfortune betide 'em ! 



Come, one drop in comfort, and never drink more. 



To my kill me now, arrah do, wid your cold water now. 



Water's a drink only fit for a whale, 

 Boney got beat at the poor game of Water-loo, 



Whiskey had brought him off clean as a nail. 



END OF CHAPTER I. 



