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(learned from Charley Cockey at Teton Tea parties in the 1960s)

(music to go here)

There was Johnny McEldoo and McGee and me
And a couple o' two or three went on a spree one day,
We had a bob or two which we knew how to blew
And the beer and whiskey flew and we all felt gay.
    We visited McCann's, Michael O'Mann's, Humpty Dan's
    And then went into Swann's our stummicks for to pack,
    We ordered up a feed which indeed we did need
    And we finished it with speed tho' we still felt slack.

Johnny McEldoo turned as blue as a Jew
As a plate of Irish stew he soon put out of sight,
Shouted an encore with a roar for some more,
Said he never felt before such a keen appetite.
    He swallowed eggs and ham, bread and jam, for to cram,
    And him we couldn't tram though we tried our level best,
    For everything we brought, cold or hot, it mattered not,
    It went down him like a shot and he still stood the test.

He swallowed tripe and lard, by the yard, wee biscard,
We thought it would go hard when the waiter brought the bill,
Told him to give o'er, but he swore he could low'r
Twice as much again and more before he had his fill.
    He nearly slupped a trough full of broth, says McGrath
    He'll devour the tablecloth if you don't haul him in,
    For everything he saw, cooked or raw, meat or slaw,
    It went down his open craw and he still shoved it in.

When the waiter brought the charge McEldoo felt so large
He began to scout and barge and his blood went on fire
He began to tear his hair and to swear in despair
And to finish the affair he called the shopman a liar.
    Shopman he threw out and, no doubt, he did clout,
    McEldoo he kicked about like an old football,
    Tattered all his clothes, broke his nose, I suppose,
    He'd 'ave killed him in a few blows in no time at all.

McEldoo began to howl and to growl, by me soul,
He threw an empty bowl at the shopkeeper's head,
Strapped our Mickey Flynn, peeled his shin, out of sin,
And the raucus did begin and we all fought and bled.
    Peelers did arrive, man alive, four or five,
    And at us they made a drive for us all to march away,
    Paid for all the meat we did eat, stood a treat,
    (slowing down)And went home to ruminate on the spree that day.

(from miriam berg's folksong collection)