play 'Rule Britannia,' then?" asked another of the men.

"No, sir," said a voice I at once knew to be no other than my friend
Darby's,--"no, sir. But av the 'Fox's Lament,' or 'Mary's Dream;'
wasn't uncongenial to your sentiments, it would be a felicity to me to
expatiate upon the same before yez."

"Eh, Bell," cried a rough voice, "does that beat you now?"

"No," said another, "not a bit. He means he 'll give us something Irish
instead; he don't know 'Rule Britannia! '"

"Not know 'Rule Britannia!' Why, where the devil were you ever bred or
born, man,--eh?"

"Kerry, sir, the kingdom of Kerry, was the nativity of my father;
my maternal progenitrix emanated from Clare. Maybe you 've heard the
adage,--

"'From Keiry his father, from Clare came his mother;
He 's more rogue nor fool on one side and the other.'

Not but that, in my humble individuality, I am an exceptions
illustration of the proverbial catastrophe."

Another shout of rude laughter from his audience followed this speech,
amid the uproar of which Darby began tuning his pipes, as if perfectly
unaware that any singularity on his part had called forth the mirth.

"Well, what are we to have, old fellow, after all that confounded
squeaking and grunting?" said he who appeared the chief spokesman of the
party.

"'Tis a trifling production of my own muse, sir,--a kind of
biographical, poetical, and categorical dissertation of the delights,
devices, and daily doings of your obaydient servant and ever submissive
slave, Darby the Blast."

Though it was evident very little of his eloquent announcement was
comprehended by the party, their laughter was not less ready, and a
general chorus proclaimed their attention to the song.

Darby accordingly assumed his wonted dignity of port, and having given
some half dozen premonitory flourishes, which certainly had the effect
of astonishing and overawing the audience, he began, to the air of "The
Night before Larry was stretched," the following ditty:--

DARBY THE BLAST.

Oh! my name it is Darby the Blast;
My country is Ireland all over;
My religion is never to fast,
But live, as I wander, in clover;
To make fun for myself every day,
The ladies to plaise when I 'm able,
The boys to amuse as I play,
And make the jugs dance on the table.
Oh! success to the chanter, my dear!

Your eyes on each side you may cast,