Reed-bird Shooting - A Poem from 1879

Three men and a bull-dog ugly,

Two guns, and a terrier lame;

They'd better stand out in the mind these,

And set themselves up for game!

But no! I see, by the cocking

Of that red-haired Paddy's eye,

He's been 'reeding' to much for you, Sir,

Any such game to try!

 

'Whist, Jamey, me boy! kape dark there,

And bould the big bull-dog in:

There's a bloody big cloud of rade-birds

That nade a peperin'!'

'Chip-bang!' speaks the single-barrel;

'Flip-booong!' roars the old 'Queen-Anne;'

There's a Paddy stretched out in the mud-hole,

A kicked-over, knocked down man!

 

The big bull-dog's eyes stick out,

And the terrier's barks begin;

The Paddy digs out of the deep mud,

And then the 'discoursin' comes in:

'Oh Jamey, ye precious young blag-guard,

I know ye're the divil's son,

How many fingers' load, thin,

Did ye put in this damned old gun?'

 

'How many fingers? Be jabers!

I nivir put in a one!

D'ye think I'd be afther ramming

Me fingers into the gun?'

'Well, give me the powdher, Jamey!'

'The powdher! as sure I'm born,

I put it all in yer musket,

As I had ne'er a powdher-horn!'

November 29, 1879. Rahway [N.J.] Weekly Advocate and Times 38(48): 1. Transcribed as printed, including word spelling.