MOORE hymned the "Irish Melodies,"
And as he harped all heeded _his_ chords.
But heaven help the bard who tries
To harmonise the "Irish Discords"
The Paddies quarrel, gird, and carp,
Blend petty squeak with mad mock-thunder.
No Minstrel Boy may tune that Harp
Since faction "tore its chords asunder."
* * * * *
A wedding of great interest to Welsh society, which took place lately
in the Rhondda Valley, was that between Mr. SMITH and Miss MARGARET
ABRAHAM, daughter of "Mabon," M.P. Of course "Ma bon-nie bride." The
presents, though numerous and handsome enough, did not somehow include
one that, having in view the nationality of the interesting pair,
would have been singularly appropriate. There was no gift of Taff-eta.
* * * * *