"An', be my sowks," observed Traynor, "he'd be a long time goin' up a
Maypowl in the state he's in--his own snail would bate him."*

* This alludes to a question in Gough's Arithmetic,
which is considered difficult by hedge schoolmasters.

"Yes," said another; "but he desarves credit for travelin' from
Clansallagh to Findramore, widout layin' a foot to the ground--

"'Wan day wid Captain Whiskey I wrastled a fall,
But faith I was no match for the captain at all--
But faith I was no match for the captain at all,
Though the landlady's measures they were damnable small.
Tooral, looral, looral lorral lido.'

Whoo--hurroo! my darlings--success to the Findramore boys!
Hurroo--hurroo--the Findramore boys for ever!"

"Boys, did ever ye hear the song Mat made on Ned Mullen's fight wid
Jemmy Connor's gander? Well here is part of it, to the tune of 'Brian
O'Lynn'--

'As Ned and the gander wor basting each other,
I hard a loud cry from the gray goose, his mother;
I ran to assist him, wid very great speed.
But before I arrived the poor gander did bleed.

'Alas!' says the gander, 'I'm very ill-trated,
For traicherous Mullen has me fairly defated;