in my face.
For in rainy or sunshiny weather,
I'm full of good whiskey and joy;
And take me in parts altogether,
By the pow'rs I'm a broth of a boy.

I was sint on the mighty world one day,
Like a squeaking pig out of a sack;
And, och, murder! although it was Sunday,
Without a clane shirt to my back.
But my mother died while I was sucking,
And larning for whiskey to squall,
Leaving me a dead cow, and a stocking
Brimful of--just nothing at all.
But in rainy, &c.

My ancistors, who were all famous
At Donnybrook, got a great name:
My aunt she sould famous good whiskey--
I'm famous for drinking that same.
And I'm famous, like Master Adonis,
With his head full of nothing but curls,
For breaking the heads of the boys, sirs,
And breaking the hearts of the girls.
For in rainy, &c.

Och! I trace my discint up to Adam,
Who was once parish priest in Kildare;
And uncle, I think, to King David,
That peopled the county of Clare.
Sure his heart was as light as a feather,
Till his wife threw small beer on his joy
By falling in love with a pippin,
Which intirely murder'd the boy.
For in rainy, &c.

A fine architict was my father,
As ever walk'd over the sea;
He built Teddy Murphy's mud cabin--
And didn't he likewise build me?
Sure, he built him an illigant pigstye,
That made all the Munster boys stare.
Besides a great many fine castles--
But, bad luck,--they were all in the air.
For in rainy, &c.

Though I'd scorn to be rude to a lady,
Miss Fortune and I can't agree;
So I flew without wings from green Erin--
Is there anything green about me?
While blest with this stock of fine spirits,
At care, faith, my fingers I'll snap;
I'm as rich as a Jew without money,
And free as a mouse in a trap.
For in rainy, &c.

* * * * *

THE "WEIGHT" OF ROYALTY.--THE SOCIAL "SCALE."

The Prince of Wales it is allowed upon all hands is the finest baby ever
sent into this naughty world since the firstborn of Eve. At a day old he
would make three of any of the new-born babes that a month since blessed
the Union bf Sevenoaks. There is, however, a remarkable providence in
this. The Prince of Wales is born to the vastness of a palace; the little
Princes of Pauperdom being doomed to lie at the rate of fifteen in "two
beds tied