Vermont farmer. [volume] (Newport, Orleans County, Vt.) 1870-1877, 1877-03-16

A lakeside dwellor young and fair,
The dearest little maid in Kerry,
with blue-gray eyes and blue-black hair,
And lips rs rod rs any cherry.
No shoe nor stocking 10 her name
Which was but simple Kitty Brady
And yet lord from England came
Implorng her 10 DO his lady.
She had another worshiper--
The boldest boy about Killarney,
With only love 10 offer her.
A little cabin and-tho barney.
She favored him with many glance,
Until the lord came on the taps,
She smiled on him at wake and dance,
And Paddy as king was happy.
The lord was Just tribe glum,
The moral Of an English lover
But sure, IL he'd been deaf and dumb,
His jlngling gold could talk one over.
"In silk and satin you shall Dress
And I will give you jewels" said he,
"To twlne in every glossy tress,
Sweet Kate, # you will BE- my lady"
Och, but these words were sloqusntl
Poer Kitty was no more than human,
And very fond Of ornament,
Like every reasonable woman.
"'Tis thrue, Pat coorts me best, but still"
Thought she-"though with the talk he's ready,
Arrah, let folks say what they will,
It's mighty hne 10 be a lady
And so she wouldn't look at Pat,
In vain he watched for her and sought her,
Until one evening, when no sat
Just ninging pebbles in tho water,
His downcast face and heavy sigh
Might have moved even stones to pity
And sac passed, gaily tripping by,
His worse than stony-heartod Kitty.
She tried to pass, mean-as cool
As any cucumber or melon;
But though tit love, Pat was no fool,
He sPrang to meet the truant Helen.
She wouldn't take his outstretched hand;
can is IL you, Miss Kitty Bradyp
Says he, ''That's got 30 stiff an grand =
Good morrow to ye thin, my lady
"But Kate, agra, now stop and spake,
If but TO toll me what's come DER you
Or Is Il that your eyes are wake,
An you can't see me hero before youl
Och, sure, alanna, you've no call
To murder people for your pleasure,
An can't live at all at all
FNhthNtN y'NA fNANS SNai NhANooNiOa
''That Englisher has wealth galore
A rint-roll longer than my arm;
Why should he stale from me, ashore,
That's niver done him any harmi
Just give me something he's not got.
An that's your own thrue heart, my honey
Sure, then wouldn't change my lot
With him for all his dirty money"
And what is little Kate to dot
She laughs and frowns and sobs and bushes;
"Och, Pat, give It up to you.
You'd charm bird from of tho bushes
Well, Just to save your life, mschree,
An not because care about you,
pll think 1t Over'-so said she-
But l could live aud thrive without yOu"
And now to tell the lord of it,
No wonder If he's rather crusty,
But little Kate has Irish wit,
That's never suffered to grow rusty,
''Sure If your honor refuse,
It's well for you-och bOtheration--
Whin it's yourself can pick an choose
From all the grandeur Of the nation.
"An' would look a holy show,
Drest in the beautifullest bonnet,
Even if all the flowers that grow,
An feathers too was stuck upon it.
An in a sthreein' satin gown,
I'D still be only Kitty brady
Sure thin, If I'd the queens goold crown,
'Twouldn't make me real lady"
At first his lordship felt the cross,
Being unaccustomed to rejection,
But thinking, ats the girls own loss
Found comfort in that wise reflection,
And ere he LEFT our island green,
lie saw wedding at Killarney,
An drank, in genuine pothecn,
''Success forever to the barney"
Dublin University Magazine.