"When the singer had finished the chorus, he was suddenly overtaken by a fit of sleepiness; and, as his body slipped to one side, he reeled from the tree and fell backward into the gutter with such force that the children instantly sprang to his assistance, for they were sure he was badly hurt. But he managed to stagger again to his feet, and excusing himself for the great impoliteness of falling asleep in company, he again leaned his back to the tree, ran his hand with a magical sweep over the strings of his harp and thus continued his song:
"'The rich and the poor have an equal share,
In the Village of Drowsy Town;
And the poor little orphan receiveth his care
As he maketh his nightly round.
With a sweep of his hand he goes sprinkling sand
As he wanders about through the street,
With a kiss and a smile for each dear little child,
As it falls fast asleep at his feet.
Chorus.