And ate his meal in the cheerless gloom,
While over him stood the grim old man
With a stick and a steaming coffee can.
“Now, mister,” allowed Elkanah, “sence
It’s a special breakfus’ it’s thutty cents.”
When the feller paid, as meek’s a pup,
And stuttered “Now, can I be put up?”
“Why, sartin, mister,” Elkanah said;
“Ye can go to tophet or back to bed;
There hain’t hard feelin’s, no, none at all,