I heard about this little man,
who loved to sing and whistle.
He might be short of stature
but he was all bone and gristle.

His coat of green and hat to match
with pants that were dark brown.
To town he'd come ta sell his goods
to the folks who wore the crown.

His shoe's were soft and sturdy
and the buckles shined so bright.
But if you was not of noble blood,
besure, your anger he would ignite.

When they tried to follow him
he would disappear real quick.
He'd turn to them and swear
in a brogue that was so thick.

Never could they catch him
and he never age'd he would.
He'd just sell his fancy shoes
and mock you where you stood.

© Bernard Howe