Yet those who knew him never thought of the
twist in the poor, bent limb,
And only strangers had a smile for the name
bestowed on him.
For if ever a man was a neighbor true, that
man, my friend, was he,
And the name he bore of “Figger-Four” was
our symbol of constancy.
’Twas he who came to the stricken homes and
closed the dead men’s eyes;