THE BROWNIES IN IRELAND.

Said one: “Not often are we found
Thus waging war on things around.
But here ’s a case that does demand
Some special treatment from the band,
And we but exercise our power

So folks may have a peaceful hour.

As for ourselves, we little care—

_ A wakeful night we well can bear;
But’ those who labor hard all day
Their bread to win, or rent to pay,
Should have a chance to sleep at night,
And rise refreshed at morning light.”

 

To Cork they traveled from Athlone
And hunted for the Blarney Stone.
At length they found it in its place
And kissed it with becoming grace.
From first to last they did n’t rest
Till each his lips against it pressed.
It did their nerve and courage try
As every one could testify.

Twas bad enough like owls to hold
A footing on the ruins old,

Where all the stones seemed ripe to go

In showers to the lawn below.
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