The Wit of Women / Fourth Edition

I'm Barney O'Flannigan, lately from Cork;

I've crossed the big watther as bould as a shtork.

'Tis a dochther I am and well versed in the thrade;

I can mix yez a powdher as good as is made.

Have yez pains in yer bones or a throublesome ache

In yer jints afther dancin' a jig at a wake?

Have yez caught a black eye from some blundhering whack?

Have yez vertebral twists in the sphine av yer back?

Whin ye're walkin' the shtrates are yez likely to fall?

Don't whiskey sit well on yer shtomick at all?

Sure 'tis botherin' nonsinse to sit down and wape

Whin a bit av a powdher ull put yez to shlape.

Shtate yer symptoms, me darlins, and niver yez doubt

But as sure as a gun I can shtraighten yez out!

Thin don't yez be gravin' no more;

Arrah! quit all yer sighin' forlorn;

Here's Barney O'Flannigan right to the fore,

And bedad! he's a gintleman born!