. Anglo-Belgic ballads and legends, and other tales in verse. s are recalled By kicks from Paddys heels. Although the thief was strongly built, The iron door and locks,Besisting his repeated kicks. Merely resound the knocks. THE BELLE OF CORK. 153 Then furiously she pulled the bell, Alarming the whole house;She coolly told the frightened wights, That she,4iad caught a mouse. And is it for a harmless haste, Hone, you kick up this row?Shame wid ye, cried her angry sire, To wake us up jist now. My dearest father, said the belle, It is no armless beast Ive caught has arms, and fain Your
. Anglo-Belgic ballads and legends, and other tales in verse. s are recalled By kicks from Paddys heels. Although the thief was strongly built, The iron door and locks,Besisting his repeated kicks. Merely resound the knocks. THE BELLE OF CORK. 153 Then furiously she pulled the bell, Alarming the whole house;She coolly told the frightened wights, That she,4iad caught a mouse. And is it for a harmless haste, Hone, you kick up this row?Shame wid ye, cried her angry sire, To wake us up jist now. My dearest father, said the belle, It is no armless beast Ive caught has arms, and fain Your daughters blood would taste. Och, by my sowl! what do you mane ? Ill tell you, daddy Pat;My safe recess now safely holds A savage two-legged rat. Ill fetch my guns and blunderbuss— Ill shoot the artful dodge! Nay, said the belle, let well alone; With us, this night, hell lodge. 154 THE BELLE OF COKK. At early dawn, her father toldThe magistrates, who tell The judge and jury—and, at last,The sexton tolled his bell. t €n\t nf 11 3Mt; ^^e f stops FEANCES ELIZABETH DAYIES. AUTHOR OF MEMORIES OF GIBRALTAR, UNWRITTEN POETRY, ETC., ETC. IS INSCRIBED; BY ONE WHO IS NOT UNGRATEFOL FOB LITERARY ADVICE, WHEN FIRST ABOUT TO CROSS THE PONS ASINORHW. $f;<t^.^i^ %dt d K ^utt; THE LAWYERS CLERK. This tale, a parody of The Cavalier, is alsofounded on fact, but it does not belong to thecategory of the tales of my giandmother. Theadventure I have put into rhyme happened someyears ago to a fiiend of mine, who, one day,narrated aU the circumstances of this strangeaffair, with the gusto of a poet—for he is a poetin every sense of the word. Circumstances, andadverse fortune, have marred all his projects; inlieu of occupying a brUliant position in therepublic of letters, he has been kept in thebackground, aud liis talents have withei-ed together 160 THE TALE OF A BUTT. with his manhood. Blasted hopes, age, and in-firmities, have placed him on the retired list of thedisheartened—h
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