Who's the stranger, Mother dear? Look, he knows us- ain't it queer? Hush, my son, don't talk so wild; He's your father, dearest child. He's my father? It's not so. Father died eight years ago. Dad didn't die, O child of mine; He's been going through "The Line." But, he's been Master now, so he Has no place to go, you see- No place left for him to roam- That's why he's coming home
- Walter Belt
- Walter Belt