request of many, sang that most exquisite of the
melodies, "And doth not a meeting like this make amends?" and long rang
the plaudits, and rapidly circulated the bottle, at its conclusion.

"We'll be the 'Alps in the sunset,' my boys," said Murphy; "and here's
the wine to enlighten us! But what are _you_ about there, doctor?--is
it a prescription you are writing?"

"No. Prescriptions are written in Latin, and this is a bit of Greek I'm
doing. Mr. Reddy has inspired me with a classic spirit, and if you will
permit me, I'll volunteer a song [_bravo! bravo!_], and give you
another version of the subject he has so beautifully treated--only mine
is not so heart-breaking."

The doctor's proposition was received with cheers, and after he had
gone through the mockery of clearing his throat, and pitching his voice
after the usual manner of your would-be fine singers, he gave out, to
the tune of a well-known rollicking Irish lilt, the following burlesque
version of the subject of Reddy's song:--

LOVE AND LIQUOR

_A Greek Allegory_

I

Oh sure 't would amaze yiz
How one Misther Theseus
Desarted a lovely young lady of owld.
On a dissolute island,
All lonely and silent,
She sobbed herself sick as she sat in the cowld.
Oh, you'd think she was kilt,
As she roar'd with the quilt
Wrapp'd round her in haste as she jumped out of bed,
And ran down to the coast,
Where she looked like a ghost,
Though 't was _he_ was departed--the vagabone fled
And she cried, "Well-a-day!
Sure my heart it is grey:
They're deceivers, them sojers, that goes on half-pay."

II

Whilst abusing the villain,
Came riding postilion
A nate little boy on the back of a baste,
Big enough, faith, to ate him,
But he lather'd and bate him,
And the baste to unsate him ne'er struggled the laste,
And an iligant car
He was dhrawing--by gar!
It was finer by far than a Lord Mayor's state coach,
And the chap that was in it
He sang like a linnet,
With a nate kag of whisky beside him to broach.
And he tipped now and then
Just a matter o' ten
Or twelve tumblers o' punch to his bold sarving-men.

III

They were dress'd in green livery,
But seem'd rather shivery,
For 't was onl