American Old Time Song Lyrics: 28 Mcmillans Superstitions

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 28

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MCMILLAN'S SUPERSTITIONS.
Copyright, 1889, by W. H. Boner & Co.
Words and Music by Wm. D. Hall.

It was at an evening party down at Michael Flynn's".
Which was given in the honor of a pair of bouncing twins,
His friends were all invited from all around the town,
And When the dance was over, to supper they sat down
There was Tim McMillan, with Roderick Muldoon,
And Theodore Mulcaly brought Bridget Ann McCuen:
O'Hara and his brother some friends with them did bring,
Which made the party number just thirteen.

They all sat down to supper, with hearts so light and gay.
And drank galore the liquors to drive dull care away.
The babies had been christened, and all was good And well
Till McMillan, like a tiger, was heard to give a yell:
"Bedad, " cried he with horror, as he began to bawl:
"There's thirteen at the table, some bad will happen all:
McMillan was a prophet, for what he said came true,
So listen and I will relate what they went through:

They soon were superstitious, which made them drink the more,
For "soon they all were paralyzed and rolling on the floor;
Somebody got a quarreling with Stevedore Muldoon,
And O'Hara in the rumpus was struck with a spittoon,
And Theodore Mulcaley yelled murder and police.
And lost his upper ivories while trying to make peace;
It was a reign of terror, such sights were never seen-
No more that gang will ever dine where there's thirteen.

O'Hara, in a hurry, while making for the door,
Upset an umbrella-lamp upon the parlor-floor;
Before they knew what happened there was a terrible noise.
Which woke the copper on the beat from slumber's sweetest joys;
Soon Are-bells were a-ringing about the Flynn setto:
And how to reach the pavement from Flynn's nobody knew;
The firemen through the window sent in a chilling stream.
Which came within an inch of drowning all thirteen.

How the fire happened not one of them could tell.
So to the station they were marched and locked up in a cell;
With faces scratched and battered they were a, sight forlorn,
And all the clothing they had on was soaking wet and torn;
Next morning at the court-house before the judge they stood,
To give explanation the best way that they could;
To get the fire insurance, the judge called it a scheme.
And off to prison they were sent the whole thirteen.

Now in the penitentiary their conduct they regret -
Their work is hard and plenty, but no wages do they get,
So let this be a lesson for all to memorize:
Before to supper you sit down be sure to use your eyes;
When at an evening party be careful what you do,
Or else some sad misfortune will surely happen you;
I am a hypochondriac from sights that I have seen­I'd starve to death before I'd eat where there's thirteen.
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