The Book of Humorous Verse Part 18

"You're right, my boy; hould up your head, And look like a jintleman, Sir; Sir Isaac Newton--who was he?

Now tell me if you can, Sir."

"Sir Isaac Newton was the boy That climbed the apple-tree, Sir; He then fell down and broke his crown, And lost his gravity, Sir."

"You're right, my boy; hould up your head, And look like a jintleman, Sir; Jist tell me who ould Marmion was-- Now tell me if you can, Sir."

"Ould Marmion was a soldier bold, But he went all to pot, Sir; He was hanged upon the gallows tree, For killing Sir Walter Scott, Sir."

"You're right, my boy; hould up your head, And look like a jintleman, Sir; Jist tell me who Sir Rob Roy was; Now tell me if you can, Sir."

"Sir Rob Roy was a tailor to The King of the Cannibal Islands; He spoiled a pair of breeches, and Was banished to the Highlands."

"You're right, my boy; hould up your head, And look like a jintleman, Sir; Then, Bonaparte--say, who was he?

Now tell me if you can, Sir."

"Ould Bonaparte was King of France Before the Revolution; But he was kilt at Waterloo, Which ruined his const.i.tution."

"You're right, my boy; hould up your head, And look like a jintleman, Sir; Jist tell me who King Jonah was; Now tell me if you can, Sir."

"King Jonah was the strangest man That ever wore a crown, Sir; For though the whale did swallow him, It couldn't keep him down, Sir."

"You're right, my boy; hould up your head, And look like a jintleman, Sir; Jist tell me who that Moses was; Now tell me if you can, Sir."

"Shure Moses was the Christian name Of good King Pharaoh's daughter; She was a milkmaid, and she took A _profit_ from the water."

"You're right, my boy; hould up your head, And look like a jintleman, Sir; Jist tell me now where Dublin is; Now tell me if you can, Sir."

"Och, Dublin is a town in Cork, And built on the equator; It's close to Mount Vesuvius, And watered by the 'craythur.'"

"You're right, my boy; hould up your head, And look like a jintleman, Sir; Jist tell me now where London is; Now tell me if you can, Sir."

"Och, London is a town in Spain; 'Twas lost in the earthquake, Sir; The c.o.c.kneys murther English there, Whenever they do spake, Sir."

"You're right, my boy; hould up your head, Ye're now a jintleman, Sir; For in history and geography I've taught you all I can, Sir.

And if any one should ask you now, Where you got all your knowledge, Jist tell them 'twas from Paddy Blake, Of Bally Blarney College."

_James A. Sidey._

REFLECTIONS ON CLEOPATHERA'S NEEDLE

So that's Cleopathera's Needle, bedad, An' a quare lookin' needle it is, I'll be bound; What a powerful muscle the queen must have had That could grasp such a weapon an' wind it around!

Imagine her sittin' there st.i.tchin' like mad Wid a needle like that in her hand! I declare It's as big as the Round Tower of Slane, an', bedad, It would pa.s.s for a round tower, only it's square!

The taste of her, ordherin' a needle of granite!

Begorra, the sight of it sthrikes me quite dumb!

An' look at the quare sort of figures upon it; I wondher can these be the thracks of her thumb!

I once was astonished to hear of the faste Cleopathera made upon pearls; but now I declare, I would not be surprised in the laste If ye told me the woman had swallowed a cow!

It's aisy to see why bould Caesar should quail In her presence, an' meekly submit to her rule; Wid a weapon like that in her fist I'll go bail She could frighten the sowl out of big Finn MacCool!

But, Lord, what poor pigmies the women are now, Compared with the monsthers they must have been then!

Whin the darlin's in those days would kick up a row, Holy smoke, but it must have been hot for the men!

Just think how a chap that goes courtin' would start If his girl was to prod him wid that in the shins!

I have often seen needles, but bouldly a.s.sart That the needle in front of me there takes the pins!

O, sweet Cleopathera! I'm sorry you're dead; An' whin lavin' this wondherful needle behind Had ye thought of bequathin' a spool of your thread An' yer thimble an' scissors, it would have been kind.

But pace to your ashes, ye plague of great men, Yer strength is departed, yer glory is past; Ye'll never wield sceptre or needle again, An' a poor little asp did yer bizzness at last!

_Cormac O'Leary._

THE ORIGIN OF IRELAND

With due condescension, I'd call your attention To what I shall mention of Erin so green, And without hesitation I will show how that nation Became of creation the gem and the queen.

'Twas early one morning, without any warning, That Va.n.u.s was born in the beautiful say, And by the same token, and sure 'twas provoking, Her pinions were soaking and wouldn't give play.

Old Neptune, who knew her, began to pursue her, In order to woo her--the wicked old Jew-- And almost had caught her atop of the water-- Great Jupiter's daughter!--which never would do.

But Jove, the great janius, looked down and saw Va.n.u.s, And Neptune so heinous pursuing her wild, And he spoke out in thunder, he'd rend him asunder-- And sure 'twas no wonder--for tazing his child.

A star that was flying hard by him espying, He caught with small trying, and down let it snap; It fell quick as winking, on Neptune a-sinking, And gave him, I'm thinking, a bit of a rap.

That star it was dry land, both low land and high land, And formed a sweet island, the land of my birth; Thus plain is the story, that sent down from glory, Old Erin asth.o.r.e as the gem of the earth!

Upon Erin nately jumped Va.n.u.s so stately, But fainted, kase lately so hard she was pressed-- Which much did bewilder, but ere it had killed her Her father distilled her a drop of the best.

That sup was victorious, it made her feel glorious-- A little uproarious, I fear it might prove-- So how can you blame us that Ireland's so famous For drinking and beauty, for fighting and love?

_Unknown._

AS TO THE WEATHER

I remember, I remember, Ere my childhood flitted by, It was cold then in December, And was warmer in July.

In the winter there were freezings-- In the summer there were thaws; But the weather isn't now at all Like what it used to was!

_Unknown._

THE TWINS