My fair is paid in postel rate,
To Kingston Township, New York State,
To Frederick Johnston, from a friend in Troy,
’Tis how are you, my conscript boy?
To a Mr. Service this letter I write,
And I’ll start across the plains to night;
For the over-land mail is now running through
Down the South Platte, and across the Big Blue,
The Sioux, and the Cheyennes, have failed in their plan