PADDY MAGEE'S

                        DREAM.

London : Printed at the " Catnach Press," by W. S.
FORTEY, Monmouth Court, Seven Dials. The oldest
and Cheapest House in the World for Ballads (4,000
sorts), Children's Books, Song Books, &c.

Joan Bull he was an Englishman, he went on the
tramp one day,
With threepence in his pocket to carry him on the
way ;
He travelled for miles and miles, and no one could he
see,
Until he fell in with an Irishman whose name was
Paddy Magee.

"Good morning," says John Bull, "Good morning,"
says Pat ;
" Where are you going ?" says John Bull, " I'm on
the road for work ;"
"Have you got any money about you," says John
Bull to Pat.
"Sure that's the only thing I want, for I've not got
a rap."

They trudged along together, met a Scotchman on
the way,
" Oh, lend us a bob, now Scotty," they unto him did
say ;
" Lend you a bob," Says Scotty, " Eh, mon," said he,
" It's the only thing I'm wanting for—I'm not worth
a baubie."

" I have threepence, said the Englishman, " What
shall I do with that ?"
" Oh, buy threepenny worth of whisky, it will cheer
us up," says Pat ;
" Oh don't do that," says Scotty, "I'll tell you what
to do,"
" Buy three pen'orth of oatmeal, and we all have a
bergue."

"With my threepence," said the Englishman, " a half-
quartern loaf—what say ?
And in yonder may-stack we'll sleep all hunger away ;
"We can quench our thirst by the running brook
beside the brilliant stream,
And the loaf shall be his in the morning who dreams
the largest dream !"

John Bull he dreamt by the morning ten thousand
men had been,
For ten years digging a turnip up the largest ever
seen,
At last they got this turnip up by working night and
day,
And it took five hundred horses for to draw
turnip away.

The Scotchman he dreamt by she morning
thousand men had been,
For ten years making a boiler the largest ever seen,
" What was it made of," said the Englishman, " was
it made of copper or tin !"
" Says Scotty, " it was made of copper to boilyour
turnip in."

" Blood and 'ounds," says Paddy, " I have been
dr aming a very large dream,
" I dreamt I was in a hay-stack beside a brilliast
stream,
" I dreamt that I, you, and Scotty was there, it's true
'pon my oath,
" I dreamt that I was hungry, and got up and the
loaf !"

                        ALICE

                    BEN BOLT.

Oh ! don't you remember sweet Alice Ben Bolt,
Sweet Alice with eyes asure brown,
How she wept with delight when you gave her a
smile,
And trembled with fear at your frown
In the old churchyard in the valley, Ben Bolt,
In a corner obscure and alone,
They have fitted a slab of granite so grey,
And sweet Alice lies under the stone.
                                                They have fitted, &c.

Oh ! don't you remember the wood, Ben Bolt,
Near the green sunny slope of the hill,
Where oft we have sung, 'neath its wide spreading
shade,
And kept time to the click of the mill.
The mill has gone to decay, Ben Bolt,
And a quiet now reigns all around,
See the old rustic porch, with its roses so sweet,
L scattered all over the ground.
                                                See the old, &c.

Oh ! don't you remember the school, Ben Bolt,
And the master so kind and so true,
And the sweet little nook by the clear running brook,
Where we gathered the flowers as they grew.
O'er the master's grave grows the grass, Ben Bolt,
And the clear running brook is now dry,
And of all our friends who were schoolmates then,
There remains now but you Ben, and I.
                                                And of all, &c.