I

“All over the world”, the traveller said,

“In my peregrination’s I’ve been;

And there’s nothing remarkable, living or dead,

But these eyes of mine have seen.

From the land of the ape and the marmoset,

To the tents of the Fellaheen”

Said the other, “ I’ll lay you an even bet

You were never in Farnaleen.”

II

“I’ve hunted in woods near Seringapatam,

And sailed in the Polar Seas,

I fished for a week in the Gulf of Siam

And lunched on the Chersonese.

I’ve lived in the valleys of fair Cashmere,

Under Himalay’s snowy ridge.”

Then the other impatiently said ,”See here ,

Were you ever at Laffan’s Bridge?”

III

“I’ve lived in the land where tobacco is grown,

In the surburbs of Santiago;

And I spent two years in Sierra Leone,

And one in Del Fuego.

I walked across Panama all in a day,

Ah me! But the road was rocky.”

The other replied , “Will you kindly say,

Were you ever at Horse -and – Jockey?”

IV

“I’ve borne my part in a savage fray,

When I got this wound from a Lascar;

We were bound just then from Mandalay

For the Island of Madagascar,

Ah! The sun never tired of shining there,

And the trees canaries sang in,”

“What of that?” said the other, “sure I’ve a pair,

And there’s lots of them in Drangan.”

V

“And I’ve hunted the tigers in Turkestan,

In Australia the kangaroos;

And I lived six months as medicine man

To a tribe of the Kathmandoos.

And I’ve stood on the scene of Olympic games,

Where the Grecians showed their paces,”

The other replied, “ Now tell me, James,

Were you ever at Fethard Races?”

VI

“Don’t talk of your hunting in Yucatan,

Or your fishing off St. Helena;

I’d rather see young fellows hunting the ‘wren’

In the hedges of Tobberaheena.

No doubt the scenes of a Swiss Canton

Have a passable sort of charm

Give me a sunset on Slievnamon

From the head at Hackett’s Farm.

VII

“And I’d rather be strolling along the quay,

And watching the river flow,

Than growing tea with the cute Chinee,

Or mining in Mexico.

 And I wouldn’t much care for Sierra Leone,

If I hadn’t seen Killenaule,

And the man that was never in Mullinahone

Shouldn’t say he had travelled at all”

by C.J BOLAND.