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"The Famous Mulligan Ball" by Frank L. Stanton

The following is the complete text of Frank L. Stanton's "The Famous Mulligan Ball." The various books, short stories and poems we offer are presented free of charge with absolutely no advertising as a public service from Internet Accuracy Project.

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NOTE: We try to present these classic literary works as they originally appeared in print. As such, they sometimes contain adult themes, offensive language, typographical errors, and often utilize unconventional, older, obsolete or intentionally incorrect spelling and/or punctuation conventions.

"The Famous Mulligan Ball" by Frank L. Stanton

THE FAMOUS MULLIGAN BALL

BY FRANK L. STANTON


Did ever you hear of the Mulligan ball--the Mulligan ball so fine,
Where we formed in ranks, and danced on planks, and swung 'em along the line?
Where the first Four Hundred of the town moved at the music's call?
There was never a ball in the world at all--like the famous Mulligan ball!

Town was a bit of a village then, and never a house or shed
From street to street and beat to beat was higher than Mulligan's head!
And never a theater troup came round to 'liven us, spring or fall,
And so Mulligan's wife she says, says she: "Plaze God, I'll give a ball!"

And she did--God rest her, and save her, too! (I'm liftin' to her my hat!)
And never a ball at all, at all, was half as fine as that!
Never no invitations sent--nothin' like that at all;
But the whole Four Hundred combed their hair and went to the Mulligan ball.

And "Take yer places!" says Mulligan, "an' dance till you shake the wall!"
And I led Mrs. Mulligan off as the lady that gave the ball;
And we whirled around till we shook the ground, with never a stop at all;
And I kicked the heels from my boots--please God--at the famous Mulligan ball.

Mulligan jumped till he hit the roof, and the head of him went clean through it!
The shingles fell on the floor pell-mell! Says Mulligan: "Faith, I knew it!"
But we kept right on when the roof was gone, with never a break at all;
We danced away till the break o' day at the famous Mulligan ball.

But the best of things must pass away like the flowers that fade and fall,
And it's fifty years, as the records say, since we danced at Mulligan's ball;
And the new Four Hundred never dance like the Mulligans danced--at all,
And I'm longing still, though my hair is gray, for a ball like Mulligan's ball!

And I drift in dreams to the old-time town, and I hear the fiddle sing;
And Mulligan sashays up and down till the rafters rock and ring!
Suppose, if I had a woman's eye, maybe a tear would fall
For the old-time fellows who took the prize at the famous Mulligan ball!



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