PADDY MURPHY AND HIS EXCELLENCY.

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXIV, Issue 5557, 20 January 1879, Page 3

PADDY MURPHY AND HIS EXCELLENCY.

(From the Saturday Advertiser.) ■XiAMBTON Kay, Wellington, January 9. Begorra, I’m back agin, so I am, and be the same token, Molly won’t lave me have a momint’s pace. She’s continually taisin’ me about the sable darlints up at Kawau. Sir George and meself came down in the Hineymo just to see the MarTdss before he laves us. His Ixcillincy is in the devil’s own timper bekaise I won’t sell out and go over to Melbourne wid him. “ What’ll I do at all, at all, widout ye,” ses he to me the other night whin we wor at tay together. “ Sure, ye've been me righthand man, Paddy, asthore machree," ses he ; “ an’ be the- powers o’ Moll Kelly I’ll be. all at say in Victorian polyticks whin I haven’t ye to coach me up in thim,” ses he. “ Arrah, don’t g’oon like that, me lord,” ses I, “sure I put our muchnal frind, Pat O' Ucl up to a rlnklo or two that’ll keep yer Ixcillincy out of all scrapes,” ses I. “ D’ye till me so 2” ses he. “ Musha, faith thin,” I do,” ses I, “an’ what’s more, I've wrote yer liorship a node imbodyin’ some sinsible advice, which, if yer Ixcillincy follows up, will keep ye clear av all difficulties an’ throubles,” ses L “ Oh, luk at that now,” ses his lordship, as he grasped me hand an’ sobbed out hisgratichude on me fratirnal breast. The pome to which I allude is hereby forwarded to ye wid this tiligrom. It’s just the same soartav’ advice which me great Shaksparian counthryman, Paul O’Neyus, tindhera to his gossoon wMn

he’s siltin’ out on his thravels on the dhram-attic stage. (It’s called the dhramattio stage bekaise the “ Stars ” giuerally keep a bottle o’ three stars in one o the little dhressin’-rooms on the top flat.) Av coorse Paul O’Neyus, an’ his son Layerteys, an’ O’Eayshio, an’ the other boys, are only playacthors in the thragedy of Ham-let (which refers to a ham that war let out for sandwiches on the coast o’ Denmark). The Markiss was touched to the heart wid the plaintive milody o’ me farewell verses, an’ he’s promised to lave me a lock av his vice-ragil hair for Molly’s locket. Och ! locket that now. (Betchune you an’ me, I’m not a jealous man, or his Ixcillincy’s delicate little attinshins to Molly might be puttin’ quare thoughts in me head. I’ve been tould that the vioe-ragil carriage has been up an’ down the Kay purty often durin me absince up North). His Lordship intinds to have the illusion printed in goold karacthers on white satin, an’ hung up iu his new manshiu on the banks o’ the Yarra.

[The ‘‘ Pome ” referred to by our talented correspondent is in type for our next.—Ed. S. A.]