  (From the forthcoming History of Parliament) One blow and Ireland sprang from the head of her Saxon enslaver a new Minerva! Proudly and solemnly she then sat down to frame a Republic worthy of Plato and Pat. Her first president had been a workhouse porter and a night watchman. He was, therefore, eminently fitted both for civil and military administration. The speech of President Pat on opening Congress develops his policy and his well-digested plans of legislative reform. Here are a few choice quotations:— The key-stone of Government is the blarney stone. Political progress may always be accelerated by a bludgeon. Our institutions must be consolidated by soft soap and whacks. The people's will is made known by manifesto, and by many fists too. Clerk. "Return?" Pat. "Phwat for ud Oi be wantin' a returrn ticket when Oi'm here already?" Every man shall be qualified to sit in Congress that is a 10 lb. pig-holder, provided that the pig and the member sleep under the same roof. Members of Congress will be remunerated for their public services. Gentlemen wearing gloves only to have the privilege of shaking the president's hand. The unwashed to be paid at the door. Pipes will not be allowed on the Opposition benches, nor may any member take whiskey until challenged by the president. Under no circumstances will a member be suffered to sit with his blunderbuss at full-cock, nor pointed at the president's ear. Our ambassadors will be chosen from our most meritorious postmen, so that they may have no difficulty in reading their letters. The Foreign Office will be presided over by a patriotic editor who has travelled in New South Wales and is thoroughly conversant with its language. Instead of bulwarks, the island will be fortified by Irish bulls; our military engineers being of opinion that no other horn-works are so efficient or necessary. The Triumphs of Temper.—Fare (out of patience at the fourth "jib" in a mile). "Hi, this won't do! I shall get out!" Cabby (through the trap, in a whisper). "Ah thin, sor, niver mind her! Sit still! Don't give her the satisfaction av knowin' she's got rid av ye!!" To prevent heart-burnings between landlord and tenant, a Government collector of rents will be appointed, and tenant-right shall include a power to shoot over the land, and at any one on it.—Punch, 1865. "Master's away from home, sir. Would you please to leave your name?" "Faix, an' what should I be lavin' me name forr, bedad! when he knows me quite well?" Rather Mixed.—The following is from The Irish Times on "Landslips":—"To feel the solid earth rock beneath his feet, to have his natural foothold on the globe's surface swept, so to speak, out of his grasp, is to the stoutest heart of man terrifying in the extreme." From Ireland.—Good name for an auctioneer's wife—Biddy. HIBERNIAN ARITHMETIC Shure multiplication—of chiefs—is vexation, But faix, there is fun in substhraction. Addition will you knit with me as one unit, And unity flabberghasts faction. As for rule o' three!—betther one, and that me! The wise, and the sthrong, and the clever! But till Oi'm up top, and all over the shop, I'll cry, "Long division for iver!" Economy.—Pat. "And ye say, if I take this one, I'll save ha'f the fuul? Bedad!"—(struck with a bright idea)—"I'll take a pair of 'em—and save it all—!!" Fisherman (beginner). "Don't you think, Peter, I've improved a good deal since I began?" Peter (anxious to pay a compliment). "You have, sorr. But sure it was aisy for you to improve, sorr!" Irish Bag Carrier (commenting on the crack shot of the party). "Sure, thin, and I do not think much av him! Ivery lot o' birds he'll be afther firin' both barrels of his gun, and divil a one he kills but two!" Groves of Blarney.—"And it's a perfect miracle the sounds ye manage to extract from that old tin kettle, Miss Cecilia; sure we don't hear the dumb notes at all!" A Misunderstanding.—His Master. "Did you take those boots of mine to be soled, Larry?" Irish Valet. "I did, sor, and see the thrifle the blag'yard gave me for'm!—'said they were purty nigh wore through!!" Irish Ingenuity.—Saxon Tourist. "What on earth are you lowering the shafts for?" (He has just found out that this manoeuvre is gone through at every ascent.) Car-Driver. "Shure, yer 'onner, we'll make 'm b'lave he's goin' down hill!" Transposition.—Irish Sergeant. "Mark time! Change your stip, that man!" Recruit. "If ye plaze surr——" Sergeant. "Silence—an' fall out at oncet an' change your feet!" REMINISCENCES OF HEDGE-FIRING Itinerant Photographer (from under the cloth). "Will you keep quiet? How do you suppose——" Subject (who is evading the focus). "Be jabers, man! will I sit still to be shot at?!!" "In Extremis."—Pat. "Do ye buy rags and bones here?" Merchant. "We do, surr." Pat. "Thin, be jabers! put me on the schkales!!" The Verdict.—First Irishman (waiting in the corridor—to his friend, rushing in from the Court). "What's Tim got?" Second Irishman (in a breathless whisper). "For loife!" First Irishman. "For loife!" (With emotion.) "Och shure, he won't live half the thoime!!" One of the Finest Pisantry (in custody, having had a shillelagh difference with a fellow-countryman). "Shure! Mayn't Oi see me frind aff b' the thrain, sorr?" Lady. "I was awfully sorry, professor, I was unable to come to your lecture last night. Were there many there?" The Professor (Irish). "Um—well—not so many as I expected. But I never thought there would be!" |
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