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HUMMING ALL THE TRADE IS.
With a merry tale,

Serjeants beat the drum;
Noddles full of ale,

Village lads they hum.
Soldiers out go all,

Famous get in story,
If they chance to fall,
Don't they sleep in glory?

Towdy rowdy dow, &c.
Lawyers try, when feed,

Juries to make pliant; . If they can't succeed,

Then they hum their client;

To perfection come,

Humming all the trade is,
Ladies lovers hum,-
Lovers hum the ladies.

Towdy rowdy dow, &c
Ha’n't Britannia's sons

Often hummed Mounseer?
Ha’n't they hummed the Dons?

Let their fleets appear!
Strike they must, though loth,

Ships, with dollars crammed,
If they're not hummed both,
Then will I be d-di

Towdy rowdy dow, &c.

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THE IRISH SMUGGLERS...
From Brighton two Paddies walk'd under the cliff,

For pebbles and shells to explore;
When, lo! a small barrel was dropp'd from a skiff,

Which floated at length to shore.
Says Dermot to Pat, we the owner will bilk,

To night we'll be merry and frisky,
I know it as well as my own mother's milk,

Dear joy! 'tis a barrel of whisky.
Says Pat, I'll soon broach it, o fortunate lot!

(Now Pat, you must know was a joker,)
I'll go to Tom Murphy, who lives in the cot,

And borrow his kitchen hot poker. 'Twas said, and 'twas done the barrel was bor'd,

(No Bacchannals ever felt prouder,)
When Paddy found out a small error on board

The whisky, alas! was gunpowder!
With sudden explosion, he flew o'er the ocean,

And high in air sported a leg;

Yet instinct prevails, when philosophy fails,

So he kept a tight hold of the keg.
But Dermot bawld out, with a terrible shout,

I'm not to be chous’d, Master Wiseman;
If you do not come down, I'll run into the town,

And, by Jasus! I'll tell the exciseman.

DRAWING THE LONG BOW.
OVER port, pipe, or snuff-box, there's always some

wight
To tell a long story at club ev'ry night,
Wanting wit at a pinch, the box helps a bad joke,
Or deficient in fire, he supplies ye with smoke.

Derry down, down, down, derry down.
Since we're told to believe only half what we hear,
Every tale we attempt should from fiction be clear,
Probability carefully keeping in view;
For example, I'll tell a short story or two.

Derry down, &c. Once a man advertised the metropolis round, He'd leap off the monument on to the ground, But when just half way down, felt some nervous attack, Grew frightened, reflected, 'turned round, and jumped back.

Derry down, &č. A boatswain who ne'er had seen Punch or his wife, To a puppet-show went, the first time in his life; Laughed and wondered at every odd trick and grimace, When a barrel of gunpowder blew up the place.

Derry down, &c. Spectators and puppets were here and there thrown, When Jack, on a tree, who had safely been blown, Took a quid, blew his whistle, and not at all vext, Cried, “ shiver me, what will this fellow do next?"

Derry down, &c.

A bluff grenadier, under great Marshal Saxe,
Had his head cut clean off by a Lockabar axe,
But his comrade replaced it so nice ere it fell,
That a handkerchief tied round his neck made all well.

Derry down, &c. Now his memory was short, and his neck very long, Which he'd bow thus and thus when he heard a good

song; And one night beating time to the tale [ tell you, He gave such a nod that away his head few.

Derry down, &c. I could tell other stories, but here mean to rest, Till what you have heard may have time to digest, Besides, ere my narrative verse I pursue, I must find some more subjects equally true.

Derry down, &c.

THE BLIND PRIEST.
A PRIEST of Kajaaga, as blind as a stone,

When he took to his bosom a wife,
Cried, “ deary, I never shall see you I own,

But you'll be the delight of my life.” :
Then his arm o'er her shoulders he lovingly passed,

And says he,“ my love, what is this lump? She faltered a little but told him at last,

“ Please your holiness, only my hump." Says the priest, " then we cannot cohabit, d'ye see,

Though I tenderly love you, indeed,
For I've taken an oath that my children sha'n't be

of the camel and buffalo breed.”
So he married another he fancied would fit-

Coming home, in sweet conjugal talk,
She stopt the blind priest, saying, “ sit down a bit,

For my legs are too bandy to walk.”

• Bandy legs,” said the priest, “ can't be counted for

sins, So sit there as still as a mouse; For Mahomet curse me if ever your shins

Shall waddle you into my house." Then he turned up his eyes like the white of boiled

eggs, And prayed thus to Mahomet smack:“ Good prophet, afford me a wife with good legs,

And with never a hump on her back!" Then the voice of the prophet in thunder was heard,

And rumbled thus over his head: “ A handsome young woman, that can't speak a word

Shall bless your blind rev’rence's bed,” The priest he bowed low, crying, “ Mahomet’s kind;

of happiness this is the sum: For a handsome young wife likes her old husband blind,

And most men like a wife that is dumb.”

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TUNE,— Home, sweet Home.' WHEN I was unmarried, alone did I roam, I found ev'ry place much more pleasant than home; I lodged in a room where the casement was broke: And no fire could be made on account of the smoke

Home! home! comfortless home!

There was no place like home!
I married a woman whom all did admire,
But jumped from the frying-pan into the fire;
She's idle and sluttish, she ne'er cleans my room;
And I ev'ry place still find better than home!

Home! home, &c.

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