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"With his phililu hubbuboo hugamaurainee, Musha gra, botheration, and smalliloo huh I
A place he soon got when in London arrived, sir,
To brush up a gemman, and wait on his coat— Where he soon learned to know that jist four beans make five, sir,
And could tell you a tale with his tongue down his throat. Now one day, white Pat was hrs master attending,
In his study, where letters around him did lay, When hf begged hard for one to his friends to be sending,
As 'twould save him from writing, and be the best way.
With his phililu, etc.
Soon after, being sent with a basket and letter, Crammed full of live pigeons to give to a friend,
Enraged at their fluttering, he thought it was better To set them at large, and their misery end:
Then on, jog he went, to the place where directed, But the door had no knocker—so, what does he do?
'Faith, he knocked at the next, where the servant attending—
Cried Pat, "It's your knocker I want, and not you!"
With your phililu, etc.
Being brought 'fore the gemman, he gave him the note,
Who said, " In the letter here's pigeons, I find." H Be jabers," says Pat, "that's a very good joke,
For they fled from the basket, and left me behind!" The gentleman swore for the loss he must pay,
Or on losing his place for certain depend; Pat replied, " To your offer I'll not once say nay,
If you'll be so kind as the money to lend !"
With my phililu, etc.
Being pleased with the joke, poor Pat got forgiven,
Por, though blunder on blunder, no harm there was meant:
And if he's not dead, with his master he's living— And when not out of humor, is always content