It's St. Patrick's Month
and here's a joke for you...
"Why do you Irish always answer a question with a question?" asked President Franklin D. Roosevelt. "Do we now?" came New York Mayor Al Smith's reply.
Wild Colonial Boy
There was a wild colonial boy. Jack Duggan was his name.
He was born and bred in Ireland In a town called Castlemane.
He was his father's only son; His mother's pride and joy.
And dearly did his parents love The wild colonial boy.
At the early age of sixteen years He left his native home,
And to Australia's sunny shores He was inclined to roam.
He robbed the wealthy squireen. All arms he did destroy.
A terror to Australia was the wild colonial boy.
One morning on the prairie, as Jack he rode along
A-listening to the mocking bird, a-singing a cheerful song
Up stepped a band of troopers: Kelly, Davis and Fitzroy
They all set out to capture him, the wild colonial boy
Surrender now, Jack Duggan, for you see we're three to one
Surrender in the King's high name, you are a plundering son
Jack drew two pistols from his belt, he proudly waved them high
I'll fight, but not surrender, said the wild colonial boy
He fired a shot at Kelly, which brought him to the ground
And turning round to Davis, he recieved a fatal wound
A bullet pierced his proud young heart, from the pistol of Fitzroy
And that was how they captured him, the wild colonial boy