"'Twas he was the boy didn't fail,
That tuck down pataties and mail;
He never would shrink
From any sthrong dthrink,
Was it whisky or Drogheda ale;
I'm bail
This Larry would swallow a pail.
"Oh, many a night at the bowl,
With Larry I've sot cheek by jowl;
He's gone to his rest,
Where there's dthrink of the best,
And so let us give his old sowl
A howl,
For twas he made the noggin to rowl."
I observed the French Colonel's eye glistened as he heard these
well-known accents of his country but we were too well-bred to pretend
to remark his emotion.
The sun was setting behind the mountains as our songs were finished, and
each began to look out with some anxiety for the preconcerted signal,
the rocket from Sir Hussey Vivian's quarters, which was to announce
the recommencement of hostilities. It came just as the moon rose in her
silver splendor, and ere the rocket-stick fell quivering to the earth at
the feet of General Picton and Sir Lowry Cole, who were at their posts
at the head of the storming-parties, nine hundred and ninety nine guns
in position opened their fire from our batteries, which were answered by
a tremendous canonnade from the fort.
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