At the Railway Station, Upway

"THERE 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 violinAt 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 sangUproariously:"This life so freeIs 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.