12

Father Malloy.

As sung by HENRI DRAYTON. Words and Music published by OLIVER DITSON AND CO., Boston.

OH! Paddy McCabe was dying one day,
And Father Malloy he came to confess him;
Oh, Paddy prayed hard, he would make no delay,
But forgive him his sins, and make haste for to bless him.
First tell me your sins then, says Father Malloy,
For I'm thinking you've not been a very good boy.
"Och!" says Paddy, "so late in the evening I fear
'Twould trouble you, — such a long story to hear;
For you've ten long miles o'er the mountain to go.
While the road I've to travel's much longer you know.
So give me your blessing and get in the saddle,
To tell all my sins, my poor brain it would addle.
And the doctor gave orders to keep me quiet,
'Twould disturb me to tell all my sins if I'd try it.
And your Reverence has told us unless to tell all,
Its worse than not making confession at all.
So I'll say in a word, I'm no very good boy,
And now for your blessing sweet Father Malloy."

13

"Well I'll read from a Book," says Father Malloy,
"The manifold sins that humanity's heir to,
And when you hear those that your conscience annoy,
You'll just squeeze my hand as acknowledging thereto.
Then the Father began the dark roll of iniquity,
And Paddy thence felt his conscience grow ricketty;
And he gave such a squeeze that the Priest gave a roar.
"Och! murther," says Paddy, "don't read any more
For if you keep reading, by all that is true,
Your Reverence's fist will be soon black and blue.
Besides to be troubled my conscience begins,
That your Reverence should have any part in my sins.
So you'd better suppose, I've committed them all;
For whether they're great ones, or whether they're small,
Or if they're a dozen or if they're fourscore;
Its your Reverence knows how to absolve them asthore.
So I'll say in a word, I'm no very good boy,
And now for your blessing sweet Father Malloy."

"Well," says Father Malloy, "if your sins I forgive,
So you must forgive all your enemies truly;
And promise me also that if you should live,
You'll leave off your old tricks and begin to live newly.
"I forgive everybody," says Pat, with a groan,
"Expect that big vagabond Mickey Malone,
And him I will murther if ever I can."
"Tut, tut," says the Priest, "you're a very bad man,
For without your forgiveness and also repentance,
You'll ne'er go to heaven and that is my sentence."
"Och!" says Paddy McCabe, "that's a very hard case,
With your Reverence and heaven I'm content to make peace;
But with heaven and your Reverence, I wonder, och hone!
You would think of comparing that scoundrel Malone.
But since I'm hard pressed and that I must forgive,
I forgive if I die — but as sure as I live,
That ugly blackguard I will surely desthroy,
And now for your blessing sweet father Malloy."