And he had paid my penny, so he said.
Joe Cluer was a man—God help him now,
Pneumonia got him down last year and took him.
But he had colored chalks, and taught me how
To draw on stones; sometimes the d.t.’s shook him
So hard he couldn’t draw, himself, but show
The way it’s done.... That’s how I made a go.
And we’d steal out together, he and I,
And draw before the crowds began to come.