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The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 87

The Spaiker

page 26

The Spaiker.

Lambton Kay, Wellin'ton,
Sir William me to go out to the Hutt wid him last night to keep the boys in ordher. Be the hokey it was a grand meetin, and there was grate goins on intirely. We spint a mighty pleasant evenin, but Sir William would press me to take claret naygus, when he knows very well that I dhrink nothin sthronger thin a tumbler or two o' whiskey punch before goin' to bed. The result is that me head is splittin this mornin, and this will account for any blimishes that may be obsarvable in the followin' pome which I've just sthruck off to immortalise the evint. I'm busy packin' up me carpet bag for me Northern tower, for av course I'm goin' to accompany Sir George to the Native Meetin'. I may tell ye as a grate saycrit that meself will be the only mimber of the Press present. The followin' is the pome I was spakin' about:—

"Och darlints waite, an' hould yer prate,
Sure now I've come afore ye,
To tell ye all, both grate an' small,
How dearly I adore ye!
So if ye plaize me voice I'll raise
An' tell ye all, be jaker,
The poli-cee purshued be me
Last session," ses the Spaiker.

"Av coorse ye know I've been a foe
To dirty Abolition,
But still, me frinds, I don't intend
To lade the Opiwsition!
The Cinthral crew have murthered you,
Their inthrests wor at stake, or
They'd niver fight for to unite
The counthry," ses the Spaiker.

"Their play was foul, for 'pon me sow!
No finer constitution
Was to be found on any ground!
Disasther and confusion
Has tuk the lade since Vogel made
Himself a Centhral Fakir;
An' lost his wits. I'd give him Fitz
Be jaibers," ses the Spaiker.

"They tuk yer bread, an faix instead
They've'given ye a stone, boys,
It's thruth I tell, they might as well
Lave well-enough alone, boys!
Avick Mavrone, ye've sould yer own
Sweet Counthry, why forsake her?
Abd bind her plains in cinthral chains
So gallin," ses the Spaiker.

"Och, freedom fair, be gog I swear
They've robbed us of your charthers;
The dirty knaves have made us slaves,
We're nothing less than marthyrs.
Oh, libertee! asthore, machree,
I'm paceful as a Quaker,
Or else I'd lade a new crusade
Against tbim," ses the Spaiker.

page 27

"We've heard a lot o' arrant rot
Of Turkish massa-crees, boys;
Av coorse, be dad, we know they had
Some small athrocitees, boys.
But for their cause, some bould Pa-Shaws
Like Soolivau an' Baker—
Fought just like bricks, wid blackthorn sticks,
For freedom," ses the Spaiker.

"Now, darlints, why should you or I
Be thrated as a vassal?
I till ye, thin, as Inglishmin,
Yer Huit should be yer castle.
Aitch squatther spawn, and ommadhaun,
Or Constitution breaker,
Will find they've still a heavy Bill
In William," ses the Spaiker.

Paddy Murphy.