Eight long miles to go, at the least, With an early message for the priest. XIII. Dennis stopped not to wake the black, Cross country, fleet and frisky. On the road he smoked an ould dhudeen, And stopped to slake his thirst with shebeen, Be sure, at the very first shop "he seen," In place of a noggin of whiskey. XIV. He cast a sharp eye over all, And he saw, against the cabin wall, A bit of ould glass, quicksilver and all A-sticking just behind it : Anybody that wasn't a dunce Could see it was part of a looking-glass once; But Dennis did n't mind it. And, may be, he would n't have cared to look ; But this 'cute thought in his head he took:: "I'd like to see, as I slept in the hay, Along with that Nigger, What sort of a figure I cut to-day." Poor Dennis! he approached the glass: But soon he saw his error. His face was black As chummy's sack, And he drew back With terror. 66 Whisht! botheration!-So, I'm in bed, And that black divil 's here in my stead! THEY'VE WOKe the Nigger up, instead of ME!" As soon as you hear what they did.-We shall see. Now, I'll wager the wind in an old pair of bellows, But without any arms! |