Addhress.

Ladies and Gintlemin,—Whin we luk back into anshint histhory in the dim vistas (they had no wax vistas in those times) o' the past, we shall be-hould a long line av potes an' warriors an' bould hayros springin' like mushrooms from the green ould sod to which mesilf has the honor to belong. Avcoorse ye rimimber how Tom Moore glorifies those days when he siNgs o' Malachi, who "wore the collar o' goold which he won from the proud in-vadher," an' from this we glane that Malachi had something to do wid the profit o' that name, or he couldn' afford to waire a collar o' goold, so he couldn't. Begorra, they wor grate boys intirely in those days, and that's the rayson I think that sich swells must have kum from the yeast to the west page 46 (I may mention ong passong (Frinch) that this same Malachi lift his collar o' goold for a month or two wid his uncle, Jeremiah O'Flaherty, one o' the thribe o' Dan, who kept a Beer-sheebeen an' a pawn shop. Hince arose the flayin', "from Dan to Beersheebeen,") But, ladies an' gintlemen, we have more convincin' proofs still av our Jewish origin. I'll not wairy ye be goin' back to the times o' the Princess Tephi, who, it is wrongly stated be me frind Misther Rees, landed from a balloon at Tara. The purty little darlint landed in Cork from a herrin' smack, and dhrove in a low back car to the Royal saite o' the anshint King, where the craythur was recayved wid open arms be an ancesthor o' me own called Phadrig Mohr, who got that name on account av his strength. (It may be minshined here that, although Phadrig recayved this craythur wid open arms, he always recayved the other craythur wid open mouth.) I'll not take up yer time wid recountin' the brave deeds o' Fin M'Coul, who tuk the chair o' King David from Tara to Scone, in Scotland, an' more shame for him, so it was. The divil a day's luck he iver had aftherwards, for afther he wint to Scotland wid O'Sheean, the pote, an ancesthor of Johnny's—he got nearly kilt intirely in the highlands, where his frind O'Sheean plaid the bagpipes an' ait porritch for many a long day. (That's therayson Johnny basa warm side for Mac, jist bekaise their muchual ancisthors, just like themselves, played many purty tchunes together, an' the people in those days, the same as now, had to pay the piper.) Av coorse its not necessary to inform larned saveyongs (Frinch), like those I see before me, that the faimale name Judey, which is so common in the Ould Dart, is merely a corrupshin av Judeya, an' that the whiskey punches which the boys are so fond av dhrinkin' in Ireland, derived their name from Punches Pilot, who, be the same token, was the idintical man that acted as pilot to the thribe o' Dan, whin they arrived at Cork. He was a Roman from his own counthry at the time. Thin agin, sure, Soolivan comes from the house o' Solomon (the blackguard has been pawnin' his watch there); and Jerry Connelly has sprung from Jerry-Co (Co is short for Connelly). Agin, the favorite ixprission Arrah is derived from Arrah-rat. But what's the use o' goin' through the long list o' proofs which I have at me fingers' inds. Sure it's as plain as a pike-staff to any man av common sinse that we are the lost thribes, an' on some fuchure occasion I'll make it me business to thrace the janyological three o' the Royal family back to Noah himsilf—iin' that's a long way further thin David. An' now, ladies and gintlemin, allow me to Say a few words in conclusion. Purmit me, on behalf o' science, on behalf o' civilization, oa hehalf av anchint histhry, an' on behalf o' the lost thribes, to thank ye very sinsairly for year able resarches in the ark-hives o' the misty past. It's a glorious work, it's a noble task, it's a grate undhertakin' intirely, so it is. The benefits which the discovery will confir on humanity are incalkulable, an' be the powers, I believe yer labours will have the iffect o' makin' the earth rivolve quicker on its axes, not to spake of its planes an' circular saws. Av coorse there may be a few invious individuals who will have the ignorance to assirt that ye, ladies an' gintlemin, would find betther imploymint for yer spare time in looking afther the lost thribes o' larrikins who run about our sthreets in rags an' ignorance, but ganuses of your stamp can afford to thrait such insinuations wid becomin' scorn. Go on wid yer grate work, an' if ye parsarvaire ye're sure to come acrass the lost thribes in jew time, so ye are."

When I sat down the applause was thriminchous, an' the mimbers rushed to embrace me, and to inroull me on the free list o' the Society. I'll send you a new pome for yer nixt.