8o THE IRISH INN. 



Hares ? Be jabers ! an' there's plenty, 

 Faix ! when I was four and twenty 

 I could never grow the number of their namesakes on my 

 head ; 



An' the snipe, you'll see them rising 

 In a way that's most surprising, 

 May the divil fly away with them that doubt what I have 

 said. 



Lions ? How strange you should be asking, 

 There were three great lions basking 



In the garden by the sundial when I went to milk the cow. 

 Ah ! now, Major, don't be winking, 

 'Tis myself you'd chaff, I'm thinking ; 



Well, I see you like romancing^ so I'm right there, anyhow. 



Sure it's quite at home you'll feel, sor, 



For we're always most genteel, sor, 

 And we keep the highest company that's found in ony land ; 



All the guests are influential, 



Whisht 1 now, I'll be confidential, 

 'Twas the Queen, she wrote a letter with her own most 

 gracious hand : 



" Mister Murphy, you're the man, sor, 

 An' you'll help me if you can, sor," 

 Said the Queen in her epistle, "Mister Murphy, you're the 

 man. 



