Page:Poems by Cushag.djvu/15

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 * Johnny an' me was married
 * Many a year ago,
 * An' a fine scutch of childher at us—
 * Ma word, how the lumpers grow!

Now its "Mayry, Mayry, Mayry, min' the chile," An' "Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, wipe your feet;" An' I'm spendin' me time washin' dishes, An' John is kep' running for meat!