'Twas a quiet summer evening, and the alley too was still.
Tommy's little heart was sinking and he felt so lonely 'til,
Up the quiet alley, coming inward from the street,
Came the some of someone singing, sounding oh, so clear and sweet.
Eagerly did Tommy listen as the singing came,
Oh he wished he could see the singer, how he wished he wasn't lame.
Then he called and shouted loudly, 'til the singer heard the sound,
And she came to see who called her, looking all around.
Twas a maiden rough and rugged, hair unkept and naked feet,
All her garments torn and ragged, her appearance far from neat.
"So you called me," said the maiden, "Wonder what you want of me,
Most folks call me Singing Jessie. What may your name chance to be?"