LARRY MAGEE'S WEDDING.

PAY attention a while and I'll sing you a ditty
About the grand wedding of Larry Magee,
Who dwelt in a fashionable part of the city,
An illigant fine mansion in Avenue D,
And the great time we had at the wedding,
Where whisky and fun fled around so free;
And dancing and singing set the room ringing
At the grand wedding of Larry Magee.

There was Con Donohoe with his old fiddle,
McGinnis, the fishman, and Jerry McShane;
O'Brien, O'Calligan and Timothy Widdle,

Who brought to the weddin' his bran new corjane,

With big Andy Fagan, the great whisky drinker,

Barney Fitzgibbons and Dennis Farlee; McCluskey, the butcher, and old Doyle, the

tinker,

Were all at the wedding of Larry Magee.

The guests of both sexes all ate very hearty, And crammed themselves up to the very windpipe;

When an accident happened to Molly MsCarty, She half choked herself with a large piece of tripe

If you were to see Riley sail into the mutton, While all of the ladies did titter with glee; He fasted two days, the dirty old glutton,

To make room for the supper of Larry Magee.

When the supper was over, the curjane and fiddle

Struck up the Grand Weddin' of Ballyporeen;

Then the bride made a call upon Timothy Widdle,

Who sang, the Night Larry was Stretched on the Green.

McGinnis, the fisherman, sang the Croppy Boy gaily,

And Tim Hooligan gave us the Boys of Tralee;

While Miss Kitty Baily sang the Sprig of Shillelah,

At the grand weddin' of Larry McGee.

SLATTERY'S MOUNTED FUT.

YOU'VE heard of Julius Cæsar, and the great Napoleon, too,
And how the Cork militia beat the Turks at Waterloo;
But there's a page of glory that as yet remains uncut,
And that's the martial story of the Slattery Mounted Fut.
This gallant corps was organized by Slattery's eldest son,
A noble-minded poacher with a double-breasted gun;
And many a head was broken, aye, and many an eye was shut,
When practicing maneuvers in the Slattery Mounted Fut.
CHORUS.

And down from the mountains came the squadrons and platoons,

Four-and-twenty fighting men and a couple of stout gossoons;
And when we marched behind the drum to patriotic tunes,
We felt that fame would gild the name of Slattery's Light Dra-
goons.

Well, first we reconnoitered 'round of O'Sullivan's shebeenIt used to be the "Shop House," but we called it "The Canteen;"

But there we saw a notice which the bravest heart unnerved-
All liquor must be settled for before the drink is served."
So on we marched, but soon again each warrior's heart grew pale,
For rising high in front of us we saw the county jail;
And when the army faced about, 'twas just in time to find
A couple of policemen had surrounded us behind.

My brother Andy said that for a soldier he would go;
So great excitement came upon the house of McElroe.
My father sold the bog-hole to equip him for the war,
My mother sold the cushions of her Sunday jauntin'-car;

And when brave Andy reached the front 'twas furious work he made;

They appointed him a private in the Crocodile Brigade.

The sound of Andy's battle-cry struck terror through the foe; His foot was on the desert and his name was McElroe!

CHORUS.

At least that's what the letter said that came across the foam,
To Andy's anxious relatives, awaiting him at home.
The papers say he ran away whene'er he met the foe;
But that was quite unlike the style of Andy McElroe.

One morning brave Lord Wolsley for a battle felt inclined;
But all could see the General had something on his mind;
Sez he, "My staff, 'twere dangerous to face yon deadly foe,
Unless we're sure that quite prepared is Andy McElroe."
Then Andy cried, "I'm here, my lord, and ready for the fray."
Then England, Ireland, Scotland, rolled together on the foe;
But far ahead of every one rushed Andy McElroe!

CHORUS.

That never-no-never! while God gave them

life,

And they had an arm and a sword for the strife,

That never-no-never! that banner should

yield

As long as the heart of a Celt was its shield; While the hand of a Celt had a weapon to

wield,

And his last drop of blood was unshed on the field.

Lift it up! wave it high!—'tis as bright as of old!

Not a stain on its green, not a spot on its gold, Tho' the woes and the wrongs of three hundred long years

Have drenched Erin's sunburst with blood and with tears!

Though the clouds of oppression enshroud it in gloom,

And 'round it the thunders of tyranny boom. Look aloft-look aloft! lo! the clouds drifting by,

There's a gleam through the gloom, there's a light in the sky.

'Tis the sunburst resplendent-far, flashing on

high!

Erin's dark night is waning; her day dawn is nigh.

Are its folds not emblazoned with the deeds of renown?

What!-though for ages it droops in the dust,

just!

The Mahdi had gone up a tree, a spy-glass in his eye,
To see his Paynim chivalry the ..orthern prowess try;
But soon he saw a form of dread, and cried in tones of woe,
"Be jabers, let me out o' this-there's Andy McElroe!
Then down he hurried from his tree, and straight away he ran,
To keep appointments, as he said, in distant Kordefan;
And fled those Arab soldiery like sand siroccos blow,
Pursued (with much profanity) by Andy McElroe.

CHORUS.

At least that's what he told us when returning o'er the foam,
To greet his anxious relatives, awaiting him at home.
So sing the song of triumph, and let all your bumpers flow,
In honor of our countryman, brave Andy McElroe.

Lift up the Green Flag! oh! it wants to go home;

Full long has its lot been to wander and roam; It has followed the fate of its sons o'er the world, But its folds, like their hopes, are not faded nor furled;

Like a weary-winged bird, to the east and the west,

It has flitted and fled-but it never shall rest, Till pluming it pinions, it sweeps o'er the main,

And speeds to the shores of its old home again, Where its fetterless folds, o'er each mountain and plain,

Shall wave with a glory that never shall wane. Take it up-take it up! bear it back from afar

That banner must blaze 'mid the lightnings

WILLY REILLY.

"OH, rise up, Willy Reilly, and come along with me,
To leave my father's dwelling-house, his houses and free land—’
I mean for to go with you and leave this countrie,
And away goes Willy Reilly and his dear Colleen Bawn.
They go by hills and mountains, and by yon lonsome plain,
Through shady groves and valleys, all dangers to refrain;
But her father followed after with a well armed band,
And taken was poor Reilly and his dear Colleen Bawn.
It's home then she was taken and in her closet bound,
Poor Reilly all in Sligo jail lay on the stony ground,
Till at the bar of justice before the judge he'd stand,
For nothing but the stealing of his dear Colleen Bawn.
"Now in the cold, cold iron, my hands and feet are bound,
I'm handcuffed like a murderer, and tied unto the ground;
But all the toil and slavery I'm willing for to stand,
Still hoping to be succored by my dear Colleen Bawn."
The jailer's son to Reilly goes, and thus to him did say:
'Oh, get up, Willy Reilly, you must appear this day,
For great Squire Foillard's anger you never can withstand,
I'm afear'd you'll suffer sorely for your dear Colleen Bawn.”
Now Willy's dressed from top to toe all in a suit of green,
His hair hangs o'er his shoulders most glorious to be seen;
He's tall and straight, and comely, as any could be found,
He's fit for Foillard's daughter was she the heiress to a crown.
"This is the news, young Reilly, last night that I did hear,
The lady's oath will hang you, or else will set you clear."
"If that be so," says Reilly, "her pleasure I will stand,
Still hoping to be succored by my dear Colleen Bawn."
If Reilly has deluded her she will declare the truth."
The judge he said: "This lady being in her tender youth,
Then like a moving beauty bright before him she did stand-
'You're welcome there, my heart's delight and dear Colleen
Bawn."

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Out spoke the noble Fox, at the table he stood by,
To hang a man for love is a murder, you may see,
Oh, gentlemen, consider on this extremity;
So spare the life of Reilly, let him leave this countrie."
"Good, my lord, he stole from her her diamonds and her rings,
Gold watch and silver buckles, and many precious things.
Which cost me in bright guineas more than five hundred pounds-
I'll have the life of Reilly should I lose ten thousand pounds."
And when we are a-parting I will them all remove,
"Good, my lord, I gave them him as tokens of true love,
"I will, my loving lady, with many thanks to thee."
If you have got them, Reilly, pray, send them home to me."
"There is a ring among them I allow yourself to wear,
With thirty locket diamonds wel! set in silver fair,
And as a true-love token wear it on your right hand,
That you'll think on my poor broken heart when you're in a
foreign land."

Then out spoke noble Fox: "You may let the prisoner go,
The lady's oath has cleared him, as the jury all may know;
She has released her own true love, she has renewed his name,
May her honor bright gain high estate, and her offspring rise to
fame!