GR-R-R-R!!! Old-fashioned Winter, indeed! Well, I 'ope them as talks on it relishes it!
The City seems give up to snow; which I can't say it greatly embellishes it.
But, really, of all the dashed imperence,—s'posing of course as they meant it,—
The greatest is that of the Papers appealing to Me to pervent it!
Ah! it's a hinsolent Hage, and without no respect for Authority.
The cry of them demmycrat 'owlers is all for low In-fe-ri-or-ity.
Things is about bottom uppards, as far as I judges, already,
And if the porochial dignity's floored, what is left to stand steady?
Progressists, indeed! Ah, I'd "progress" 'em, pack o' perposterous hasses,
A regular pollyglot lot, breeding strife 'twixt the classes and masses.