"WON'T WORK!"

AIR--"_ST. PATRICK'S DAY IN THE MORNING_." _IRISH SPORTSMAN SINGS_:--

[Illustration]

St. Patrick, they say,
Kicked the snakes in the say,
But, ochone! if he'd had such a hound-pack as mine,
I fancy the Saint,
(Without further complaint)
Would have toed the whole troop of them into the brine.
Once they shivered and stared,
At my whip-cracking scared;
Now the clayrics with mitre and crosier and book,
Put the scumfish on me,
And, so far as I see,
There's scarce a dog-crayture
But's changed in his nature.
I must beat some game up by hook or by crook,
But my chances of Sport
Are cut terribly short
On St. Grouse's Day in the morning!

With a thundering polthogue,
And the toe of my brogue,
I'd like to kick both of 'em divil knows where!
Sure I broke 'em meself,
And, so long "on the shelf"
They ought to be docile, the dogs of my care.