He must hunt, and of course keep a horse of his own
Shoot—fish—and attend all the races;—
Thus his work is so light, yet so pleasant withal,
From the honest fame he must inherit,
The Proprietors don’t wish to pay him at all,
But let his reward be—his merit.
(Another announcement will appear by and by
Directing all candidates where to apply.)
From Songs of the Press, and other Poems relating to Printing, collected by C. H. Timperley. London. Fisher, Son & Co. 1845.
