University of Virginia Library

There lived one day a little boy,
The pride, the pet, his mother's joy,
The living idol of her heart
For whom she tried a mother's part;
A jewel that gleamed in strands of gold,
His baby face intaglio mould.
His name was Claud, this little boy;
But known to all as “Little Cloy.”
The house in which he lived was grand,
With lawn and drives on every hand.
Inside this gorgeous mansion's walls
Looked like an eastern prince's halls.
With all of this, of little Cloy's,
He was a boy like other boys.
And oft too near the fountain played,
Or in his glee loud noisc made,
And when too near the fountain's spray,
They'd seek to frighten him away,
By saying that some bogie man
Would catch him if too near he ran.
The fittest subject for this fright
Was Newton Lews, as black as night.
Ungainly lad was Newton Lews,
He wore just number fourteen shoes,
And if this size he could not find,
He'd let his heels stick out behind,
And as he'd never been trained to socks,
His feet would turn the sharpest rocks.
The holey coat that graced his back,
Was made of antique coffee sack.
His hat, which covered half his head,
Had partly to a goat been fed;
Or else some tattered scare-a-crow
Had to the wind just let it go.

Ungainly lad, untaught, unlearned,
His brow by learning neer'd been turned,
And all he knew was lowly toil,
Which, oft time, was a sharper's spoil.
Was worth, perhaps, a dollar note
When it was time to cast a vote.
He lived within a little shack,
Which looked to have a broken back,
Yet in his home when work was o'er,
His voice in song came from the door.
In life he played the humbler part,
Ere guided by a simple heart,
Of hearts which in these humble breasts
Are often tried by mighty tests.
The learning of the earth and skies,
Had ne'er been bared unto his eyes,
And what to him had ne'er been bared,
He heeded not and little cared.
And past the home of little Cloy,
Would daily go this colored boy,
And then in foolish innocence
They'd say to Cloy, “Look through the fence!
Now from the fountain you must stay
Or he will get you right away.”
'Twas thus learned Cloy in childish glee,
To fear Lews as his enemy.

One day came slouching down the street,
This Newton Lews with portly feet;
The birds sang sweetly in the trees,
And on the noonday's silent breeze,
A tenor to Lews' whistled notes,
Came bubbling from the birds' sweet throats.
Ah, not a care on earth had he,—
And as the birds his soul was free.
A model of man's careless joy
Appeared this day this colored boy.
And louder, louder, rang his song,
When suddenly he heard a gong—
And fire engines down the street
Came dashing up in smoking heat.
The regular clanging of the gong,
Kept time to lunging horses strong,
The clanging, banging of the gong,
Came nearer, nearer, loud and long.
This common sight Lews'd often seen,
But suddenly he heard a scream,
Which seemed to rend the summer air.
He turned and saw a lady fair,
Come running, screaming, “Save my child!”
In shrill accents, loud, frantic, wild—
Then in the road Lews saw the boy,
He was her darling little Cloy.
A moment lost, and in the street
He'd fall beneath the horses' feet.
Quick as a flash, this Newton Lews,
Who wore just number fourteen shoes,
Sprang out to save this treasure rare,
This priceless jewel with golden hair—
But Cloy, he saw his face with fright,
And shrank from Lews as black as night.
Alas, too late, for both were struck,
Dead, by the hook and ladder truck,
And to God's grand, Eternal Joy,
Went Newton Lews and Little Cloy.