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EDITOR’S NOTE: Sunday is St. Patrick’s Day and to help everyone get into the celebratory spirit, Charlie O’Leary, Joan Lynch, Gary Kump, Arlene McLean, Ellie Dunn and Harriet Geary submitted their original limericks featured here. We at The Montana Standard hope our readers will enjoy this slice of Irish tradition. More importantly, we hope you all have a fun, but safe holiday.

From Charlie O’Leary, Butte

1.

St. Paddy's Day meant to be fested

Our local brews will be ingested

So have a few jars

But don't drive your cars

Or your arse will wind up arrested.

2.

He survived Skibbereen as a child

The famine ship ride he reviled

He wandered to Butte

In his tattered old suit

Looked down at the dirt and just smiled

From Joan Lynch, Walkerville

1.

Ellen Shannon she was on arrival.

Her passion, Butte's history survival.

She is now Ellen Crain,

Ruling Quartz Street at Main,

Where her domain is Grandly archival.

2.

The're corned beefin' with cabbage and stout.

The're paradin' on Butte's festive route.

But St. Patrick, it's said,

Is scratchin' his head,

And wondrin',

"What's that all about?"

3.

It's St. Patrick's Day in the area,

With reveling crowds that could scare ya.

From the Pit to the Stack,

The Irish are back.

Come join us,

And we'll take good care ya.

From Gary Kump, Butte

Name Your Poison:

Patrick O‘Malley is dead

And here’s what his tombstone said

“He reached for some booze”

“But here’s the bad news”

“He grabbed some water instead”

Be Still My Heart:

There is an Irish girl named Jill

Who resides up in Walkerville

That moonshiner’s daughter

Drinks more booze than water

But she knows that I love her still

From Arlene McLean, Butte

There was once an old sot from Muldoon

Who went up in a hot air balloon

He was drinking his hooch

And consoling his pooch

When he awoke in a local saloon

From Ellie Dunn, Butte

There once was a man from Killarney

Whose neighbors said was full of blarney

He drank too much rye

And he bragged he could fly

Fueled by whiskey and chili con-carne

From Harriet Geary, Butte

Starkle, Starkle, little tink

Who the hell you are I think?

I'm not under the alcfluence of inkahol

Like most thinkle peep I am

I just had tee martunies and the drunker I sit here the longer I get!

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