AN GAOḊAL.
473
The Trefoil Club of Binghamton, N Y. had a
Robert Emmet celebration on March 4th, which
was followed by a banquet. Tickets to the ban¬
quet were $6 a head, so that it must be a hightone
affair. The “Bill-of Fare” was in the Irish Lan¬
guage, beautifully executed by Mr. Thos. F.
McCarthy, Steel & Copper Plate Engraver, 181
William St, N Y. It is the finest specimen of the
art we have seen in a long time. The credit of the
noble and patriotic idea belongs to Mr. P. J. Mc¬
Tighe of the Binghamton Philo-Celtic Society.
We print a copy of the card, with translation, as
follows .
CLÁR-INNSE BÍṪ AGUS DÍṪ.
Oisriḋ air leaṫ-ṡliogán.
Anḃruiṫ Fearáin Ġlais.
FÍON-SÉRES.
Briodán Ṗenobsċoit, Fiuraḋ iasgáin.
Rollṫa Ṗotaiḋe, air nós Ṗárais.
SUAIĠLE.
Bindealán mairt-ḟeola gríoscaḋ, le
bocon.
Ḃárraiḃ lusuġaḋ.
Suaġ laċ-ḟiaḋáin, le olṫaiḃ.
Póir Ġlas.
SUAṪ-BIOTÁILE CUMANN IASG-
AIRE.
Poitrisg frioḃruite, air arán aiṫéite,
Fiuraċ cluṁṫa,
Leaṁ-ḟáis sgoilte.
Francaċ neaṁ-ċnáṁaċ, Clogaiḋ geárr-
ċirce, Clogaiḋ gliomaċ.
SÁR-ṪIRM G. H. ṀUIM.
Tuirtin Riġeaṁuil, Tuirtin iuḃar-ċnai
Ġil.
Uaċdar Reoite Árd-Ċaṫraċ.
Searla-Ruis, Muirt-ḃiotáile.
Measa, Cofe-Francaċ.
Tobac-casta.
Translation.
MENU.
Oysters on half shell.
Green turtle soup.
SHERRY.
Penobscot salmon, shrimp sauce.
Potatoe croquettes a la Parisiénne.
SAUTERNE.
Roast Filet of beef with-mushrooms,
Asparagus Tips.
Salmi of wild duck, with Olives.
Green Peas.
FISHERMAN’S CLUB PUNCH.
Broiled Quail on Toast, game sauce.
Sliced Tomatoes.
Boned Turkey, chicken salad, lobster salad.
G. H. MUM’S EXTRA DRY.
Imperial Cake, white coconut cake.
Metropolitan Ice Cream.
Charlotte Russe. Rum Jelly.
Fruits, French coffee.
Cigars.
Brataċ Na Buaḋ.
THE FLAG of VICTORY.
By GAEL GLAS.
March 17, 1885.
GAELS, upon your banners blazon,
As a pledge of victory :
Christ's lov'd cross, and spurn, with reason,
Th' emblems of frail vanity;
Nought mean all those false devices
Wolf dog, tower, and blazing sun,
But paganism that suffices
To get Erin's cause undone.
Your ancestors in olden ages,
Ere Patrick's feet their isle had trod,
As their palladium — say the sages —
A serpent bore, and Moses' rod.
So of the harp it would be heinous
Did Gadelians cease to brag,
But 'tis unsuited to the genius
Of your faith on nation's flag.
See how Engalnd, though unrightly,
Flaunts the Christian sign, at large,
While her herald kills th' unsightly
Dragon, with the spear of George,
See how her rampant lion knows a
Consciousness of strength, of course,
While her stout unicorn shows a
Power, of undivided force.
But all her wisdom, pomp and glory
Shall evanish, with her stores ;
Scattered by a crisis, gory,
Like the chaff of threshing floors :
For, St. Francis tells us truly,
As his plain prediction saith,
That crusading hosts shall duly
Sway the earth to Roman faith.
Saints ! embrace the Crucial Order,
All its ends are strictly pure ;
lt aims, through God, without disorder —
If this can be, — with purpose sure:
Celtic lore to re-awaken,
Ireland’s freedom to regain.
Win back the sects to truth, forsaken,
And give to Christ the world's domain.
When Hibernia wisely places
A red cross, as ensign bold,
On an olive verdant basis,
She shall triumph sure unfold;
An Agnus this “Labarum," gracing,
Men, and demon-foes to flog ;
But no wrong the cause disgracing,
GAELS ! behold your Danneborg. *
* The sacred standard of the Danneborg fell
from heaven. Vide the Scandinavian Annals.
