"How are you, my angel? Much pleasure it gives Me to see you! For your sake alone Murphy lives. Though your beautiful charms all his brains are fast stealing, And his heart it would break did you hurt but a feeling. Will you bless, then, your slave, by accepting of this Tiny gift of affection--a sweet wholesome kiss? For, believe me, no onion I've tasted to-day, Though that delicate fruit's very much in my way. What!--you'd much rather not? Sure yourself you are spiting Quite as much as myself, whom your charms are delighting. Only think, what a way, for your sake I have brought it, And though numbers of females most anxiously sought it (Some too passably fair, yet--believe me, 'tis true,-- I met never a one so bewitching as you). Still I kept my teeth close, though 'twas really perplexing Their sweet lips to see pouting, and gentle hearts vexing. But come, Matty and Sal, you will kiss your new father, For I'm sure that your ma would say Yes than No, rather. Though some cruel event has her peace of mind crossed, Still she's anxious to find the sweet temper she's lost. And Pat, my fine fellow, how are you to-day? Here's sixpence to spend in some comical way. Shall I give it your mother? she'll of it take care; But whatever you buy give your sisters a share. Stay, what is this nice smell? who has dinner not done? For I see by the cloth it is spread but for one: Sure you never expected to see me! For there seemed not a chance, when I got up to-day, Of my having the power to come round this way, Though I felt almost dying to see thee." Now the dame was perplexed; What to say or do next She certainly knew not. While the friar must choose His nice dinner to lose If quick out he flew not. For the cover was raised, And the cooking was praised, As the dame whisp'ring low said "'Twas, dear Murphy, for you They were dressed, for we knew You would call as you so said The last time you were here; And your welcome's sincere, Though they're small ones--I fear Pat was sleepy or lazy, For the hot weather, says he Makes one take all things aisy." "Oh, no mother, I aint. I was reading my book, When, without any bait, they both snapt at my hook. I had nigh chucked them back they're so small, but I thought You might think half a loaf perhaps better than naught." Now Murphy was sure there was either some hoax, Or young Pat was a-playing his practical jokes. But he conscious seem'd not, for 'twas always his way To entice them to words, which their thoughts would betray. [Illustration: Sure it makes me feel hungry.]