Oh! me and Nellie Barker live way down on William Street,—
I'll bet you couldn't find another youngster half so sweet;
Why, when she wears that gown of hers, the colour of the skies,
You'd think 'twas made of bits of stuff, exactly like her eyes.
She's like a reg'lar picture girl, so pretty, I tell you,
She's like the cards they have for advertisin' washin' blue.
Her hair's just like a shinin' light, soft fluffy curls,—but pshaw!
Tweren't her that I'm to tell about,—it's little Nellie's Pa.

Oh! he's of no account,—'a ne'er do weel,' her grandma says;
It's this, he takes a glass too much and isn't right for days;
But me and Nell is awful thick; I live across the way,
And she sees me, I guess, 'bout forty 'leven times a day.
We always play at teachin' school, and Nell's the boss; you see,
She's in the part-a-second book and knows lots more than me;
She stays with us a lot, for if I'd make a noise, he'd jaw,
And I am kind of half afraid of little Nellie's Pa.

Once me and Nell was down the town, 'twas on a Saturday,
And there was such an awful crowd we thought we wouldn't stay;
We started off for home and hadn't gone so very far,
When right before us rushed a horse, skeered by a trolley car.
I thought that we was gonners sure, but someone grabbed it quick,
And held on tight; it dragged him down, but my! he was a brick;
He held on till he dropped, the awf'lest sight you ever saw,
As white as death—you'd never think, 'twas little Nellie's Pa.

I hustled off with Nell so fast she hadn't time to know,—
I wanted for to get home first and knowed that they'd come slow.
Well, he was awful sick, was hurt inside, his leg was broke,
And Nellie said 'twas days and days before he even spoke;
And by and by he comed around and walked out with a crutch,
And then I wasn't skeered of him, and didn't run,—not much!
He used to sit and sun hisself a talkin' to her Ma.
And, by and by, I got to likin' little Nellie's Pa.

One Sunday, Nell was teachin' us and we was singin' there, '
Bout 'Jesus loves me, this I know,'—I guess you've heard the air;
And Nell, she held her finger up and said that it was true,
He loved us all, the good or bad, no matter what we'd do;
Of course He's sorry if we're bad; and then poor little Ned
Looked up with his big eyes and—'Does he love your Pa?' he said.
Her Pa was sittin' near an' when he peeked around I saw,
And answered up,—'Of course He does love little Nellie's Pa.'

Well, I was sorry, don't you know, for lately he'd been kind,
And after that the doctor said he'd somethin' on his mind.
When he got worse again I knowed that he was goin' sure,
For after once a bird's flew in you know there ain't no cure;
And Nell, she heard a tick-a-tick just solemn like a clock,
And Butler's dog, it howled one night, you'd heard it for a block;
So just at noon, when someone came a runnin' in for Ma,
I knowed right off, at last there weren't no little Nellie's Pa.

But man! the funeral was fine; the Workmen all turned out;
The band was there and beat the drum so soft, and marched about;
They played that awful thing, it keeps a runnin' in my head, '
Tum, tum, tum, tum, tum, tum, tum;' I could hear it in my bed.
You'd think he'd been a minister, as good as good could be;
They took their shiny hats right off, and so I guess, you see,
The angels too will act the same, forget the sin they saw,
And be just awful glad to meet my little Nellie's Pa.