THE STORY OF EPAMINONDAS AND HIS AUNTIE[1]

　　Sorra a know she knowed    Awhere she was that day;  Says she, "I'm biled an' ate up, shure,    An' what'll be to pay?"

　　Thin she betho't hersel',    An' tuk her schissors out,  An' shnipped a big hole in the bag,    So she could look about.

　　An' 'fore ould Fox could think    She lept right out--she did,  An' thin picked up a great big shtone,    An' popped it in instid.

　　An' thin she rins off home,    Her outside door she locks;  Thinks she, "You see you don't have me,    You crafty, shly ould Fox."

　　An' Fox, he tugged away    Wid the great big hivy shtone,  Thimpin' his shoulders very bad    As he wint in alone.

　　An' whin he came in sight    O' his great din o' rocks,  Jist watchin' for him at the door    He shpied ould mither Fox.

　　"Have ye the pot a-bilin'?"    Says he to ould Fox thin;  "Shure an' it is, me child," says she;    "Have ye the small Rid Hin?"

　　"Yes, jist here in me bag,    As shure as I shtand here;  Open the lid till I pit her in:    Open it--niver fear."

　　So the rashkill cut the sthring,    An' hild the big bag over;  "Now when I shake it in," says he,    "Do ye pit on the cover."

　　"Yis, that I will;" an' thin    The shtone wint in wid a dash,  An' the pot oy bilin' wather    Came over them ker-splash.

　　An' schalted 'em both to death,    So they couldn't brathe no more;  An' the little small Rid Hin lived safe,    Jist where she lived before.

　　THE STORY OF EPAMINONDAS AND HIS AUNTIE[1]

　　[1] A Southern nonsense tale.

　　Epaminondas used to go to see his Auntie 'most every day, and she nearly always gave him something to take home to his Mammy.