IRISH Padre Tommeeckbride Laughed an' laughed onteell he cried. Always he ees do dat way At mos' evra theeng I say. Ees no matter w'at I spoke, He would tak' eet for a joke; Eet's a shame to tease a man W'en he do da best he can! Now, for eenstance, yestaday Dere's a chrees'nin' down our way; Eet's a baby call' "Carlott'" Dat my cousin Rosa's got. O! so small, jus' two weeks old -- Een wan handa you could hold! Wal, I am da wan dat stand For dees leetla child, my frand -- How you call een deesa land? "Godda-father?" Yes, dat's me! Wal, w'en all ees done, you see, An' da child ees bapatize', Padre Tommeeckbride, he cries: "Evrabody com' dees way. We must write eet down," he say. While he's writin' een da book, From my pocket here I took Twenta-fi'-cent piece, my frand, An' I put eet een hees hand. "Thanks!" he say, an' smiles at me. Den Bianca Baldi, she -- While da padre looks at eet -- Wheespers: "Dat's a leetle beet!" "Sure," I tal her, "dat'sa true, But da baby's leetla, too." Irish Padre Tommeckbride Laughed an' laughed onteell he cried. Always he ees do dat way At mos' evratheeng I say; Eet's a shame to tease a man W'en he do da best he can! |