Only made the thraithors worse
And the howling mob in hundreds after bould O’Brine did pour,
As with cat-calls, shrieks, and whistles,
And the most unginerous missiles—
Rotten eggs, sticks, stones and carrots—they disgraced Ontario’s shore.
With throwing of brickbats,
Drowned puppies and dead cats,
These ruffian democrats themselves did lower.
“Och! a national disgrace,”
Cried O’Brine, and with quick pace