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The Doctor

DOCTOR O'FINNIGAN

And thin he on the morra

At the wake would kill sorra,

Make the keeners fall laughin'

As they crooned round the coffin,

137

And 'twas not till he 'd left could the wailin' begin again.

He grew older and grizzled,

But his beard sure was frizzled

With strong manhood's full vigor;

He grew stouter in figure,

But niver a wan of us thought him walker or older.
For his swate laughter mellow
Made him seem a young fellow

When sivinty years' labor

With his crony and neighbor

He was wearin' with honor on the head on his shoulder.

I am thinkin' his lotions

And his yarbs, pills, and potions

Counted less in successes

In his cures of distresses

Than the force of the great, manly, warm bubblin' heart of

him,

For his mirth drove aich ailment

From its place of consalement,

Enablin' him to mate it

In the daylight to trate it,

And 'twas sorra the sickness that e 'er got the start of him.

He was found in his carriage,
Goin' home from a marriage,

Ninety years from the mornin'

That had witnessed his bornin',

And the smile was still playin' on his faytures unwrinkled.

And ochone! there was sorra

In that region the morra,

Whin his old neighbors crowded

Round his loved form white-shrouded.

But he only smiled swater as the water was sprinkled.

Father Briardy mintioned

That pure grief well-intintioned

Sure might follow a mortal

Who had passed through the portal,

But that weepin' and wailin' had no charm for the sleeper. So our tears they were inded,

Or with tinder smiles blinded,

And all smiling we followed

Where his grave they had hollowed,

And we flowered his coffin and left him with the Keeper.

To this day in Killarney,

'Tis the highest of blarney

Just to hint that a human,

Be it man, be it woman.

Do be like in the least to good Doctor O'Finnigan;
For his name brings thoughts tinder,

While the smiles the tears hinder,

And the hearts that be sorrowin',

From his glad mim'ry borrowin'

Courage, arise from despair life's battle to win again.

-HENRY A. VAN FREDENBERG.

I

A Discovery in Biology

THINK I know what Cupid is:
BACTERIA AMoris;

And when he's fairly at his work,

He causes DOLOR CORDIS.
So, if you'd like, for this disease,
A remedy specific,
Prepare an antitoxine, please,

By methods scientific.
Inoculate another heart

With germs of this affection,
Apply this culture to your own,
'Twill heal you to perfection.

-MARY E. Leverett.

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