[Illustration: THE SICK EAGLE.

COLUMBIA. "DO LET THE POOR BIRD OUT, MR. B.; HE DROOPS SADLY."

Mr. BOOTWELL. "REALLY I DON'T SEE ANY THING THE MATTER WITH HIM, MA'AM.
HIS CAGE IS ALL GOLD, AND HE SURELY OUGHT TO BE CONTENTED."]

* * * * *

AN EXCELLENT OLD SONG MADE NEW.

BY A DEFAULTER.

Is there for his dishonesty
Who hangs his head, and a' that?
The coward slave, we pass him by,
And dare to steal for a' that.
For a' that and a' that,
Our grabs and games, and a' that,
Our business is to make a pile
And swindle SAM, and a' that.

What though the people curse and swear
At losing gold, and a' that?
Their fiercest wrath we'll proudly bear,
And cash is cash for a' that.
For a' that and a' that,
Their lawyers, courts, and a' that.
The lucky rogue who wins his pile