Already much dejected.
Our country calls, etc.
THE FATE OF A FOWLER.
[Showing how it is best to be off with the Old Love before you are on with the New.]
Tune—“Lord Lovel.”
A Fowler one morning a poaching would go,
“I’m in for a bagful,” quoth he;
So in Uncle Sam’s manor he shot high and low,
And helped himself plentiful-ly, lee, lee,