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The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 87

"Markiss Aroon."

page 47

"Markiss Aroon."

Lambtin Kay, Wellington,

Begorra, I'm back agin, so I am, and be the same token, Molly won't lave me have a momint's pace. She's continually taisin' me about the sable darlints up at Kawau. Sir George and meself came down in the Hineymoa just to see the Markiss befoie be laves us. His Ixcillincy is in the divil's own timper becaise I won't sell out and go over to Milbourne wid him, "What'll I do at all, at all, widout ye," ses he to me the other night whin we wor at tay together, "Sure, ye've been me right-hand man, Paddy, asthore machree "ses he; an' be the powers o' Moll Kelly, I'll be all at say in Victorian polyticks whin I haven't ye to coach me up in them," ses be. "Arrah, don't go on like that me lord," ses I, "sure I put our muchual frind, Pat O'Rel, up to a rinkle or two that'll keep yer IxcelUncy out of all scrapes," ses I. "D'ye till me so?" ses he. "Musha, faith thin, I do," ses I, "an' what's more, I've wrote yer Lordship a node imbodyin' some sinsible advice, which, if yer Ixcillincy follows up, will keep ye clear av all difficulties an' throubles," ses I. "Oh, luk at that now," ses his lordship, as he grasped me hand an' sobbed out his gratichude on me fratimal breast. The pome to which I allude is hereby forwarded to ye wid this tiligram. It's just the same soart of advice which me great Shaksparian counthryman, Paul O'Neyus, tindhers to his gossoon whin he's sittin' out on his thravels ou the dhram-attic stage. (It's called the dhram-attic stage bekaise the "Stars" ginerally keep a bottle o' three stars in one o' the little dhressin'-rooms on the top flat). Av coorse, Paul O'Neyus, an' his son Layerteys, an' O'Rayshio, an' the other boys, are only play-acthors in the thragedy ov Ham-let (which refers to a ham that was let out for sandwiches on the coast o' Denmark). The Markiss was touched to the heart wid the plaintive milody o' me farewell verses, an' he's promised to lave me a lock av his vice-regal hair for Molly's locket. Oh! locket that now. (Bechune you an' me, I'm not a jealous man, or his Ixcillincy's delicate little attinshins to Molly might be puttin' quare thoughts in me head. I've been tould that the Vice-raygil carriage has been up an' down the Kay purty often durin' me absince up North). His Lordship intinds to have the iffusion printed in goold kar-acthers on white satin, an' hung up in his new manshin on the banks o' the Yarra.

Air: "Soggarth Aroon."
Is it the truth they say,
Markiss; aroon.
That you are goin' away?
Markiss, aroon.
Lonely mesilf will be,
Sadly to part wid ye,
George, Guss, avick machree,
Markiss, aroon.

Act like a dacint man,
Markiss, aroon.
Thry an' do all ye can,
Markiss, aroon.
Whin ye raich Milbourne town,
Black Berry up an' down,
He'll change yer half-a-crown,
Markiss, aroon.

page 48

Sir Bryan's a frind o' mine,
Markiss, aroon;
To him I'll write a line,
Markiss, aroon.
Axin' his help for yo u;
Or else the blackguard crew,
Will get ye in a stew,
Marquis, aroon.

Plaise yer Ix-cill-in-cee,
Markiss, aroon,
Take this advice from me,
Markiss, aroon:
Whin mimbers pass ther bills,
Don't put on any frills,
Do what the public wills,
Markiss, aroon.

Give all the boys a thrate,
Markiss, aroon,
Cabinit puddin' nate,
Markiss, aroon;
An' whin the Im-bis-say
Comes back from far away,
Ax Berry up to tay,
Markiss, aroon.

Don't air yer iloquince,
Markiss, aroon.
(Lam to have betther sinse,
Markiss, aroon),
Take care an' niver mix
In party politicks,
There they won't stand such thricks,
Markiss, aroon.

Av coorse on social thaimes,
Markiss, aroon,
Harbor an' railway schaimes,
Markiss, aroon,
Shows, faists, an' bankets, too,
Ye can still spake, it's thrue,
Spoutin' till all is blue,
Markiss, aroon.

Don't be a parly-zan,
Markiss, aroon.
Blarney thim all ye can,
Markiss, aroon;
Tell thim they're hayroes grand,
Praise up their noble land,
Thin, darlint, ye may stand,
Markiss, aroon.

Take care and don't dispise,
Markiss, aroon.
The Arguse's hundred eyes,
Markiss, aroon;
Tiligraph an' Herald page,
Yer attinshun must engage,
March onward wid the Age,
Markiss, aroon.

page 49

All social questions doubt,
Markiss, aroon,
Don't go so far as Stout,
Markiss, aroon;
Jist be mere half-an-half,
Stick to the grains, an' chaff,
Age, Argus, Tiligraph,
Markiss, aroon.

An' now Georgy Gussy, dear,
Markiss, aroon,
Pardon this thrickling tear,
Markiss, aroon,
Grief hardly lets me spaike,
Darlint, me heart will break,—
Go—an' me blessin' take,
Markiss, aroon.

Paddy Murphy.