And they had watched that old man well with interested look,
And gazed him counting greenbacks in that brownsome pocket-book;
And the elder softly warbled with benevolential phiz,
“Green peas has come to market, and the veg’tables is riz.”
Yet still across the heavenly sky the clouds went clouding on,
The rush upon the gliding brook kept rushing all alone,
While the ducks upon the water were a-ducking just the same,
And every mortal human man kept on his little game.
And the old man to the strangers very affable let slip
How that zealousy policeman had given him the tip,