Catholic children -- Juvenile fiction; Families -- Juvenile fiction
Well, ye see, I'd sold my papers,
Every bloomin' blessed one,
And was strollin' round the corner.
Just a prospectin' for fun,
I was loafin' by the railin'
Of that church you see right there,
With its crosses and its towers,
Kind of settin' off the square,
And I got a sort of lonesome,
For the gang, they weren't around,
When I heard a noise of music,
Seemed like comin' from the ground.
It was nothin' but some singin',
But it sounded mighty fine,
Course, I ain't no judge of them things,
An' it's no affair o' mine.
Then it seemed to kind o' weaken,
And I didn't hear it plain,
Till the band struck up a whoopin'
An' heerd it all again.
Well there seemed to be a show there,
That I thought I'd like to see,
An' there was so many a goin'
I jest says--I'll bet it's free.
So I looks around the corner,
An' I makes a careful search,
For I knew the kids'd guy me,
If they heerd I'd been to Church.
Well, there warn't a soul a-lookin',
So I up an' walks right in,
An' I sat down in a corner,
While they finished up their hymn.
Well, sir! blow me if I ever
Was so taken aback!
There was marchin' up the aisle
A gang of kids in white an' black.
They was singin' just like angels,
An' they looked so slick and nice,
I wondered where they got 'em--
Were they always kept on ice?
An' they wore a long black cloak, sir;
Comin' to their very feet,
An' an overall of white stuff,
Just like what's in a sheet.
Then some men came on behind them,
Singing loudly as they came,
But although the kids was weaker,
They got there all the same.
Then behind the whole percession,
Came two men, most all in white,
An' they wore some fancy biziness,
An' they looked jest out o' sight,
But they didn't do no singin',
Just kept still an' looked ahead,
An' says I'll bet they're runnin'
All the show, that's what I said.
Then they all got up in front there,
An' the music sounded grand,
But to save my neck I couldn't,
Get a sight, sir, of the band.
I could hear it as distinctly,
So I guessed it must be near,
But I saw no men, nor nothin',
An' I thought it very queer.
Well, a man was standin' near me,
An' I touched him with my hand,
Then he looked around and saw me,
An' sez I: "Say, where's the band?"
Then he looked at me a grinin',
Just as tho' I'd made a joke,
That 'ere look he gave me,
Made me sorry that I'd spoke.
Then he says: "Why, that's the organ;
All those pipes you see up there,
One man plays it with his fingers,
An' another pumps the air."
Here the music stopped so sudden,
That I most forgot myself,
An' I heerd some man a talkin'
From a book laid on a shelf.
Then they all got up and read some,
First the man, then the crowd,
After that they knelt down softly,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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