I thought the dhrop of dhrink was free, But throth I had to pay! I thought it quare, but then I thought, It was the fairy's way; "Howld on" siz I, "she's thryin' me, Have I an open heart, Before she makes me fortune," so, Begar! I took a start Of reckless generosity, An' flung me money round, 'Twas scatthered on the table! In Her lap, an' on the ground! I seen it glitter in the air, Before me wondherin' eyes, Like little yalla breasted imps, All dhroppin from the skies! O then I knew that it was threw, She was a Fairy Queen, The goold, came dhroppin'! whoppin'! hoppin' The like was never seen! I gave a whipping screech of joy! Whin, wid a sudden whack, Some hidden wizard, riz his wand, An' sthruck me from the back, Down came the clout upon the brain, An' froze me senses quite, An' over all me joy at once, There shot the darkest night! * * * * * I knew no more, till I awoke, An' found meself alone, I thrust me hand, to grasp me purse, Me forty pounds wor gone! O then, with awful cursin', if I didn't raise the scenes, "Bad luck!" siz I, "to Leprechauns, Bad scran, to Fairy Queens! Bad luck to them, that spreads abroad, Such shockin' lyin' tales, Bad scran has me, that tears me hair, An' forty pounds bewails!" With that, I seen a man, come up, A dark arch, marchin' thro', As if he hadn't any work, Particular to do. He measured me, wid selfish eye, As cat regards a rat, An' whin he spoke, begor I found, 'Twas just his price at that! Siz he "What's all this squealin' for? What makes ye bawl?" siz he, Siz he, "I'm a dissective, so, You'll have to come wid me!" Siz he, "Yer shouts wor almost loud Enough, to crack the delph! An' in the mornin' I must bring Ye up, before himself!" "Arrah! What for?" siz I, an' thin, I towld him all me woe, An' how I woke, an' found meself Asleep, an' lyin' low. I towld him of the whipsther, that Had whipped me forty pound, An' left me lyin' fast asleep, In gutther, on the ground. Then leerin' like, he turned, and siz, "You're a nice boy! complate! To go wid Fairy Queens, like that, An' lose yer purse, so nate. Corney!" siz he, "go home!" siz he, "She might have sarved ye worse, I'll thry me best, to ketch the Fay, An' get you back yer purse. But look! don't shout like that again, It was a shockin' shout, It sthruck me, 'twas a house a-fire! You riz up such a rout.