Page:Late lyrics and earlier, with many other verses (IA latelyricsearlie00hardiala).pdf/123



HERE is not much that I can do, For I've no money that's quite my own!” Spoke up the pitying child,— A little boy with a violin At the station before the train came in,— “But I can play my fiddle to you, And a nice one 'tis, and good in tone!"

The man in the handcuffs smiled; The constable looked, and he smiled, too, As the fiddle began to twang; And the man in the handcuffs suddenly sang Uproariously: "This life so free Is the thing for me!" And the constable smiled, and said no word, As if unconscious of what he heard; And so they went on till the train came in— The convict, and boy with the violin.