“Walk in,” says the barber, “sit down in that chair, I’ll soon mow your beard off right down to a hair.” So his lather he spread over Paddy’s big chin, And with his “trust” razor to shave did begin. With his lather and shave, &c. “Och, murder!” says Paddy, “now what are you doin’? Leave off wid yer tricks, or my jaws you will ruin, Faith, now how would you like to be shaved wid a saw? Be the powers, you’ll pull every tooth out o’ me jaw.” With your lather and shave, &c. “Sit still,” says the barber, “and don’t make a din, With your moving your jaws, I’ll be cutting your chin.” “Not cut but sawed, och, that razor you’ve got, Sure it wouldn’t cut butter, if it wasn’t made hot. With your lather and shave, &c. “Now lave off yer tricks, and don’t shave any more,” And Paddy he bolted straight out of the door, Crying, “Ye may lather and shave all yer friends till yer sick, But, be jabers, I’d rather be shaved wid a brick.” With your lather and shave, &c. Not long after that Pat was passing the door, When a jackass he set up a terrible roar; “Och murther,” says Paddy, “jist list to yon knave, He’s given some poor divil a ’love o’ God shave.’” With his lather and shave, &c. Few Days. 41 This world is coming to an end, few days--few days I’ll crack my shins, my jacket rend--I’m gwine home! I’m gwine to run clear out of sight, few days--few days; And leave these naughty diggins quite; I’m gwine home! CHORUS. For I’ve got a home out yonder, few days--few days! I’ve got a home out yonder, in old Tennessee. And I can’t stay in these diggins, few days--few days! Can’t stay in these diggins, I’m gwine home. They tell about Maine Liquor Law, few days--few days; It makes the folks get drunk the more; I’m gwine home. Nebraska’s gwine to be a State, few days--few days; Cuba too will come in late; I’m gwine home. For I’ve got a home out yonder, &c. Every thing is done by steam, few days--few days; Leather taffy, chalk ice-cream--I’m gwine home. Boys wears beards, and women too, few days--few days; Though all things change there’s nothing new, I’m gwine home. For I’ve got a home out yonder, &c. The Shanghai fowls, how tall they grow, few days--few days, That people can not hear them crow; I’m gwine home. When guano’s put on gudgeon’s tails, few days--few days; They grow to be as big as whales; I’m gwine home. For I’ve got a home out yonder, &c.