Come look at the wild menagerie, before the flood of wet comes down,
For thin ye won't have time to see, ye'll all be dhrownded thin!
The glass is goin' down to-day
An' sure from far Americay,
A blizzard's on the thrack I hear, so lose no time, come in!"
Twas thin O'Toole, the Irishman, pushed wid his elbows thro' the crowd,
He dhropped his tanner, an' he wint into the show that day,
An' as he thrapsed along the decks, an' in the howld, an' up an' down,
He sudden got a pleasin' thought, an' thin he went away,
He kep' the saycret to himself, an' never towld a single sowl,