Irish Echo is the worst newspaper according to many newsagents. We lose money on this every week of the year bar one – the week of St Patrick’s Day. While it is supplied on a sale or return basis, Irish Echo takes up real-estate and requires labour – these are costs to newsagencies. Either newsagents need to be paid a handling fee or they are provided much better terms. The current situation disrespects newsagents.
May your pipe never smoke, may your teapot be broke
And to add to the joke, may your kettle ne’er boil,
May you keep to the bed till the hour that you’re dead,
May you always be fed on hogwash and boiled oil,
May you swell with the gout, may your grinders fall out,
May you roll howl and shout with the horrid toothache,
May your temples wear horns, and your toes many corns,
Of the monster that slighted our dear Irish Echo
May your spade never dig may your sow never pig
May each hair on your wig be well thrashed with a flail
May your door have no latch, may your house have no thatch,
May your turkey not hatch, may the rats eat your meat
May every old fairy, from Cork to Dunleary,
Dip you snug and airy in river or lake,
Where the eel and the trout may feed on the snout
Of you, the monster that slighted our dear Irish Echo.