So Tiny gave him some out of his trouser-pocket.
Then they shook hands so that all the Fellows thought it was a fight, and ran up to help.
And after that the black Captain went away with his friend, arm in arm over the Mountain to Where-George-is.
COOEY! COOEY!
And there the band plays day and night, seven years without ceasing,
God save our gracious George.
And George sits all day in his mail-cart under the palm, and bows his head, and says,
"A-a-men."