Special Ipistol.

A few evenins ago, Mac, an' Daylahtoor, an' Jay See Brown, an' Shrimmy, an' a few more o' the boys met me up at Jack M'Ginitty's on the Kay, an' as it was about tay-time I invited thim home to take a cup wid me. Afther Molly had rimoved the tay-things, me ould frind George Jones dhropped in wid his fiddle, an' the black bottle that I keep in the kuturd for me purticular frinds was projooced. Be the hokey, we spint a most enjoyable evenin', so we did, an' Mac danced the soord-dance across two brooms in illigint style. Before we broke up for the night. Jay See suggisted that I should'write a node in honour o' Graham Berry's victhory in Victory-a. As the subject was a most conjanial one, I sthruck off the fol-

Aitch city's mare, sure I declare,
Aits burgoo—masther's whey,
An' smokes an' chaws—faix thim's the laws
Across the ragin' say.

Och, Herkuliss, bedad we'll miss
Yer janeyill countininse,
Sure Gladstone should (it's choppin' wood
That's robb'd him av his sinse),
Have kept ye here for many a year,
To sthroll on Lambton Kay—
Me binidick-shun, take, avick,
Across the ragin'say.