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And they ran, and they jumped, and they shouted galore;
But Phadrig or Kathleen they never saw more.

But those days are gone by, and his, too, are o'er,
And the grass is growing over the grave of Crohoore,
For he wouldn't be aisy or quiet at all;

As he lived a brave boy, he resolved so to fall,
So he took a good pike-for Phadrig was great—
And he died for old Ireland in the year ninety-eight.

THE IRISH SCHOOLMASTER.*

ANONYMOUS.

OLD Teddy O'Rourke kept a nice little school at a place called Clarina, in the South of Ireland; he hadn't many scholars, because the folks in those parts were for the most part too poor to send their children to school, and they picked up their learning as pigs do their meat; still Teddy had some pupils, though they were a roughish lot, in spite of their having to pay a penny a week extra to be taught manners.

Teddy's school-room was a bit of a shed, and the boys couldn't complain of bad ventilation, seeing that there was a hole in the roof which left it open to the blue sky, and the rain too, for in those parts, when the rain does pour, it comes down mightily.

Well, one morning, says Ted, "My boys, since all of you are here, I'll just call over your names to see that none of you are missing. Gerald McShaa?"

"I'm here, sir."

"Paddy O'Shaughnessy."

"Here, but my brother Barney ain't."

"Where is your brother Barney, then?'

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“He's dead, sir, and they are going to wake him."

"Are they; well, you go and sit down by the fire, and

*The present will be found to differ very materially from the balder sketch generally printed under the above heading.

larn your task, and don't be falling asleep, or I'll be waking you."

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Paddy MacShane, my darling, come here and bring your purty little brown face wid you, and spell me Constantinople."

"I can't, sir."

"Can't you? then by the powers I'll teach you; first of all you see there's C.”—“ C."

"O."—" 0." "N.”—“N."

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"Con.". "Con."

"That's the Con."-" That's the Con."

"S." "S."

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"That's the Ti."-" That's the Ti."

"And the Stanti."- "And the Stanti."

"And the Constanti."-" And the Constanti." "N." "N."

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"And the Tino."- "And the Tino."

"And the Stantino."- "And the Stantino."

"And the Constantino."—" And the Constantino.”

"P."_" P."

"L." "L."

"E."—"E."

"Ple." "Pull."

"That's the Ple."-" That's the Pull."

"And the Nople."-" And the Nopull."

"And the Tinople."—" And the Tinopull."
And the Stantinople."-" And the Stantinopull."

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"And the Constantinople."-"And the Constantinopull." Now, do you know the meaning of that mighty word? That's the name of the Grand Turk, sir, who commands the creatures with the three tails. And there's the benefits of navigation to you without ever puttin' your foot in the water."

"Felix O'Brian, before you go down come up and say your letters. What is the name of the first letter in the Alphabet? "X, sir."

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"No, sir; what does your father give the donkey to eat, sir?"

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Nothing, sir."

"And what else?"

"Hay, sir."

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Aye, that's a good boy; and what's next to A? " "Don't know, sir."

"Sure you haven't forgot it already! What do you call the little gintlemen, with the sting in his tail, and the yellow jacket over his shoulders, that flies about the bogs and the ditches, and stings people?

"The jackass, sir."

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"It's a lie, sir. It's the bee, sir, and many's the day you run after him when you should be following your education. Now, what do you call the fellow after B?" "That's the moon, sir.”

"Thunder and thump! that's murderous; who ever heard of a letter called the moon? Och, Felix, my boy, you'll never be a clargy in the varsal world. What do I do when I look through my spectacles, ye rapscallion, ye?" "Ye squaint, sir." (Beats him.)

"And what else, ye varmint?

"You see, sir."

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"Troth, I do; and C is the very name of it. Trot away to your sate on that purty little foot of yours, and turn the sharpest corner of your eye to your lissin."

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Charley M'Flusky, come hither; but first of all take that fly out of your mouth. What would you think, now, if that little creature contained in its tiny body the soul of your own ould grandmother? But you don't under

stand transmugrification; you can understand, however, never to catch flies in the school, Tell me the littir after C?"

"W, sir."

"Shame on you! What is your Aunt Judy's name?" "Judee, sir.'

"Arrah, then, can't you say D without the Ju?" "Yes, sir. D, and no Jew.”

"Well, sir?"

"E, F."

"Well, what do you stop for?"

"Because I can't go no further, sir."

"Sorry ye can't. What do the waggoners cry when they want their horses to go faster?"

"Gee ho, Dobbin!"

"Well, G, and no Dobbin. Next?" "H."

"That's right; and what follows H?" "Don't know.'

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"Don't know! What has your mother got by the side of her nose?"

"A pimple, sir."

"A pimple! Denis Donnigan, come here, and tell me the name of that letter I was explaining to you yesterday -the long one there, for all the world like a may-pole? You've forgot, I see, that's sartain. What was't your father gave to your mother last Saturday night when he came home from Hoolichan's raffle?

"He gived her a black eye, sir."

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“And isn't I the very name of the letter? And what's the name of the next but one after the I, eh? What does your mother open the door with?

"A poker, sir."

"And what besides?"

"A string, sir."

"And what else?"

"A kay, sir."

“K—that's right,—to be sure she opens the door with a key. Now, what's next to K?"

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“ L.”

"Well, and what next?

"Don't know, sir."

"What does your mother do with her nightcaps when she makes them?"

"She pawns them, sir."

"Stupid booby!-how does she make them?"

"She cuts them out and hems them."

"Can't you say M and no cut out?

"M and no cut out."

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"I'll cut out your jacket, you, you, you young scamp! What's next?"

"Don't know, sir."

"Where does your mother get her eggs?"

"She buys them."

"Doesn't the hen lay them? And N is the letter to be sure. Now, what's the name of that letter like the full moon, afore she turns herself into a reaping-hook again, as our old Belfast prophets foretell? I wonder if I can ring it out ov you?" (Pulls his ears).

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O, murder, murder!"

"That's it now. I'll take the O, and lave the murder to yoursalf. Tell me now, before I dismiss you, the name of that one with the slop over his head. Sure you know what your mother takes to her breakfast on Sunday morning?"

"Potheen, sir."

"Oh, you base informer! And well does I love it my own self, too, for if it were not for a dhrop or two of that same my old throat would get dry with the speaking, and my body a lump of dry dust, and old Teddy O'Rourke, your devoted tutor, would be blown about like the dust in the very air you're breathin'. Does your mother never take anything else?"

"Tay, sir.'

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"And T is the very word I want.

Get away to your

seat, and pay more attention for the future."

"And now Denis O'Neal, you are further on with your larnin': tell me how many cases them Latins had amongst them ?"

"Six, plase your honour."

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