THE STB IKE AT SHAKE'S. 81 



*'Begorra, they're killin' all the rats in the barn, an' 

 the divil a rat can get away from all thim cats." 



"Good luck to 'em, then, for the rats were about to 

 take us," said Tom. "How were the horses?" 



"Now, look ye, Tom; do ye mind how lame thim 

 horses was?" 



"Yes." 



"Well, the di^^l a stiff leg is there among 'em at all, 

 except Dobbin." 



"How do you account for it?" asked Tom. 



" Ifs the tratement I give 'em. Tve got a resati 

 for it^ an* it's good for man an* baste, an' ivery other 

 living crayture. Ye' 11 find it in the Good Book, an' its 

 like this : ' Do thou unto others as thou loouldst have 

 them do unto thee^' an' that's a good resate, hegorra" 



"Why, Mike, you're getting poetical." 



" Sure an' I'm feelin' poetical, an' if me voice wasn't 

 out of tune I'd sing ye a bit of a song." 



"Never mind your voice ; give us the song." 



' ' Thin here goes wid a song I composed mesilf to 

 suit the occasion : — 



I'm Michael McCarty, 



So hale and so hearty — 



I work ivery day in the year ; 



The horses all know me, 



The cattle all show me 



They know they have nothing to fear. 



Stan' up for the brutes, 

 An' the birds, if it suits 

 An' the chickens an' turkeys alone, 



