你一定听说过《酒吧里的凯西》和《凯西的餐桌》;现在是时候给"凯西的比利山羊"写一首押韵诗了。"帕特·凯西有一只公山羊，他给它起名叫沙姆斯，因为(邻居们说)这是国家的耻辱。果然，那只动物以啃食周围的每一块衣服而闻名。从衬衫到裙子，它惊人地证明了它的咀嚼能力;消化的问题似乎根本无关紧要;但我想你会同意我的看法，当它吞下鲁尼夫人的红色披肩时，它的恶行已经到了极限。现在安妮·鲁尼太太是一个迷人的寡妇，许多活泼的男孩都想让她改名字;住在对面的当然只是凡人，像凯西这样孤独的人也应该如此。于是，每个星期天，他都剃光了脸，擦得锃亮，找个好机会去拜访那位女士，她就把他的衣服拿走; And supping tea it seemed that she might yield to his persuasion, But alas! he hadn't counted on that devastating goat. For Shamus loved his master with a deep and dumb devotion, And everywhere that Casey went that goat would want to go; And though I cannot analyze a quadruped's emotion, They said the baste was jealous, and I reckon it was so. For every time that Casey went to call on Missis Rooney, Beside the gate the goat would wait with woefulness intense; Until one day it chanced that they were fast becoming spooney, When Shamus spied that ould red shawl a-flutter on the fence. Now Missis Rooney loved that shawl beyond all rhyme or reason, And maybe 'twas an heirloom or a cherished souvenir; For judging by the way she wore it season after season, I might have been as precious as a product of Cashmere. So Shamus strolled towards it, and no doubt the colour pleased him, For he biffed it and he sniffed it, as most any goat might do; Then his melancholy vanished as a sense of hunger seized him, And he wagged his tail with rapture as he started in to chew. "Begorrah! you're a daisy," said the doting Mister Casey to the blushing Widow Rooney as they parted at the door. "Wid yer tinderness an' tazin' sure ye've set me heart a-blazin', And I dread the day I'll nivver see me Anniw anny more." "Go on now wid yer blarney," said the widow softly sighing; And she went to pull his whiskers, when dismay her bosom smote. . . . Her ould red shawl! 'Twas missin' where she'd left it bravely drying - Then she saw it disappearing - down the neck of Casey's goat. Fiercely flamed her Irish temper, "Look!" says she, "The thavin' divvle! Sure he's made me shawl his supper. Well, I hope it's to his taste; But excuse me, Mister Casey, if I seem to be oncivil, For I'll nivver wed a man wid such a misbegotten baste." So she slammed the door and left him in a state of consternation, And he couldn't understand it, till he saw that grinning goat: Then with eloquence he cussed it, and his final fulmination Was a poem of profanity impossible to quote. So blasting goats and petticoats and feeling downright sinful, Despairfully he wandered in to Shinnigan's shebeen; And straightway he proceeded to absorb a might skinful Of the deadliest variety of Shinnigan's potheen. And when he started homeward it was in the early morning, But Shamus followed faithfully, a yard behind his back; Then Casey slipped and stumbled, and without the slightest warning like a lump of lead he tumbled - right across the railroad track. And there he lay, serenely, and defied the powers to budge him, Reposing like a baby, with his head upon the rail; But Shamus seemed unhappy, and from time to time would nudge him, Though his prods to protestation were without the least avail. Then to that goatish mind, maybe, a sense of fell disaster Came stealing like a spectre in the dim and dreary dawn; For his bleat of warning blended with the snoring of his master In a chorus of calamity - but Casey slumbered on. Yet oh, that goat was troubled, for his efforts were redoubled; Now he tugged at Casey's whisker, now he nibbled at his ear; Now he shook him by the shoulder, and with fear become bolder, He bellowed like a fog-horn, but the sleeper did not hear. Then up and down the railway line he scampered for assistance; But anxiously he hurried back and sought with tug and strain To pull his master off the track . . . when sudden! in the distance He heard the roar and rumble of the fast approaching train. Did Shamus faint and falter? No, he stood there stark and splendid. True, his tummy was distended, but he gave his horns a toss. By them his goathood's honour would be gallantly defended, And if their valour failed him - he would perish with his boss So dauntlessly he lowered his head, and