"She's not at home at present, but breakfast sure is laid, She's gone off to be married," outspoke the sneering maid; "Le Beau, the fencin'-master is now the blissful man; You'll see them soon, they're comin' in a satin-lined sedan." "O, blur-an-owns!" said Gorman, "O tear o'war," said Byrne, MacHugh, the other second, and I got quite a turn! The man, who heard them quarrel, in Ranelagh-walk that night, Was Le Beau, the man who sent them to Phoenix Park to fight. He taught them both in fencing, and yet they did not know, That each, was being instructed by his rival, Mons. Le Beau. They tied her pair of donkeys, unto her garden pier, When from the topmost window, that servant shouted "Here, A note she left to give you, for both of you to learn." 'Twas written: "Kit O'Gorman, and Mister Pat O'Byrne, I've sent a couple of donkeys, I thought that they might teach What fools you are, for fighting, for what's beyond your reach, But, silly as my donkeys, if both of you remain, Remorse for death, will follow, I'm yours, Theresa Jane." We sought a Pub, and pondered, and drank, and sadly swore, We would not be connected, with duels evermore, I drank of stout, O'Gorman, and Byrne, of harder stuff, They swore of duel fooling, they both had quite enough,-- Now, here's the bunch of fives, boys, there is no better rod To 'venge our wounded honour, than the weapons made by God! [Illustration] [Illustration: THE ABDICATED CROWN.] he WAS jolly, round, and fat, And with a bright top hat, A chain beneath his burly bosom set, In good old fashioned way, Said he to me, "I say Old boy, I have a thing that's to be met, A pressing little debt, The dunner has me set, My pocket is unfurnished, to be let! Five bob is all I ask," I 'sponded to the task, That abdicated crown is debit yet! [Illustration: TEARS-IN-LAW]