oration
upon the peculiar excellences of his native country, which ended in a
declaration that there was nothing like Galway.

"Why don't you give us a song, Miles? And may be the general would learn
more from it than all your speech-making."

"To be sure," cried the several voices together,--"to be sure; let us hear
the 'Man for Galway'!"

Sir George having joined most warmly in the request, Mr. Bodkin filled up
his glass to the brim, bespoke a chorus to his chant, and clearing his
voice with a deep hem, began the following ditty, to the air which Moore
has since rendered immortal by the beautiful song, "Wreath the Bowl," etc.
And, although the words are well known in the west, for the information of
less-favored regions, I here transcribe--

THE MAN FOR GALWAY.

To drink a toast,
A proctor roast,
Or bailiff as the case is;
To kiss your wife,
Or take your life
At ten or fifteen paces;
To keep game-cocks, to hunt the fox,
To drink in punch the Solway,
With debts galore, but fun far more,--
Oh, that's "the man for Galway."
CHORUS: With debts, etc.

The King of Oude
Is mighty proud,
And so were onst the _Caysars_;
But ould Giles Eyre
Would make them stare,
Av he had them with the Blazers.
To the devil I fling--ould Runjeet Sing,
He's only a prince in a small way,
And knows nothing at all of a six-foot wall;
Oh, he'd never "do for Galway."
CHORUS: With debts, etc.

Ye think the Blakes
Are no "great shakes;"
They're all his blood relations.
And the Bodkins sneeze
At the grim Chinese,
For they come from the _Phenaycians_.
So fill the brim, and here's to him
Who'd drink in punch the Solway,
With debts galore, but fun far more,--
Oh, that's "the man for Galway."
CHORUS: With debts, etc.

I much fear that the reception of this very classic ode would not be as
favorable in general companies as it was on the occasion I first heard it;
for certainly the applause was almost deafenin