I see him knit a norrid brow.
His vice is thunderin in mine ears;
He puts me in a hawful ole,
He riles me till I'm fit to bust,
He calls my case, from last to first,
About the wilest and the wust
Of vich he's ad control:
And says the union's 'past belief
Of such a Fool,' and 'such a Thief.'"