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Ned Farmer's Scrap Book.
13
And when the boundary is gained the Ranger makes his bow,
A very ranger like "Salaam," concocted long ago,
Then blows that note peculiar, a proof his lungs are good,
And this evergreen trots back again to his "cottage near the wood."
He's a fine Old English Forester, one of the olden time.
The tuneful lark's gay matin song his early summons sounds,
Then lustily he wends his way o'er Trentham's spacious grounds,
Or mounted, or on foot, he hies around its princely park,
And every person that he meets gets some unique remark,
From this fine Old English Forester, one of the olden time.
