NO IRISH NEED APPLY.
Written by JOHN F. POOLE, 1862 and sung, with immense success, by the great Comic-Vocalist of the age, TONY PASTOR.
I’m a dacint boy, just landed from the town of Ballyfad; I want a situation: yis, I want it mighty bad. I saw a place advartised. It’s the thing for me, says I; But the dirty spalpeen ended with: No Irish need apply. Whoo! says I; but that’s an insult — though to get the place I’ll try. So, I wint to see the blaggar with: No Irish need apply. I started off to find the house, I got it mighty soon; There I found the ould chap saited: he was reading the TRIBUNE. I tould him what I came for, whin he in a rage did fly: No! says he, you are a Paddy, and no Irish need apply! Thin I felt my dandher rising, and I’d like to black his eye– To tell an Irish Gintleman: No Irish need apply! I couldn’t stand it longer: so, a hoult of him I took, And I gave him such a welting as he’d get at Donnybrook. He hollered: Millia murther! and to get away did try, And swore he’d never write again: No Irish need apply. He made a big apology; I bid him thin good-bye, Saying: Whin next you want a bating, add: No Irish need apply! Sure, I’ve heard that in America it always is the plan That an Irishman is just as good as any other man; A home and hospitality they never will deny The stranger here, or ever say: No Irish need apply. But some black sheep are in the flock: a dirty lot, say I; A dacint man will never write: No Irish need apply! Sure, Paddy’s heart is in his hand, as all the world does know, His praties and his whiskey he will share with friend or foe; His door is always open to the stranger passing by; He never thinks of saying: None but Irish may apply. And, in Columbia’s history, his name is ranking high; Thin, the Divil take the knaves that write: No Irish need apply! Ould Ireland on the battle-field a lasting fame has made; We all have heard of Meagher’s men, and Corcoran’s brigade.* Though fools may flout and bigots rave, and fanatics may cry, Yet when they want good fighting-men, the Irish may apply, And when for freedom and the right they raise the battle-cry, Then the Rebel ranks begin to think: No Irish need apply
H. DE MARSAN, Publisher, 54 Chatham Street, New York.
I want a situation, yes, And want it very bad.
I have seen employment advertised, “It’s just the thing,” says I, “But the dirty spalpeen ended with ‘No Irish Need Apply.’ ”
“Whoa,” says I, “that’s an insult, But to get the place I’ll try,” So I went to see the blackguard With his “No Irish Need Apply.”
Some do count it a misfortune To be christened Pat or Dan, But to me it is an honor To be born an Irishman. I started out to find the house, I got it mighty soon; There I found the old chap seated, He was reading the Tribune.
I told him what I came for, When he in a rage did fly, “No!” he says, “You are a Paddy, And no Irish need apply.” Then I gets my dander rising And I’d like to black his eye To tell an Irish gentleman “No Irish Need Apply.”
Some do count it a misfortune To be christened Pat or Dan, But to me it is an honor To be born an Irishman. I couldn’t stand it longer So a hold of him I took, And gave him such a welting As he’d get at Donnybrook.
He hollered, “Milia murther,” And to get away did try, And swore he’d never write again “No Irish Need Apply.” Well he made a big apology, I told him then goodbye, Saying, “When next you want a beating, Write `No Irish Need Apply.’ ”
Some do count it a misfortune To be christened Pat or Dan, But to me it is an honor To be born an Irishman.
