"Of course he does," and all began calling for a song.

A sudden thought struck Dick, and stepping quickly to the piano, he
played his own accompaniment and sang, in a rich baritone voice, a
street song:

"They tell me go work for a living,
And not round the country to stamp;
And then when I ask for employment,
They say there's no work for a tramp."

The song was by no means a classic one, but the manner in which Dick
rendered it made it seem so, and as he sang:

"There's many a true heart beating,
Beneath the old coat of a tramp."

A strange hush fell over the little audience, and when the song was
finished a subdued murmur of applause filled the room, while eager
voices called for more. Dick responded with another selection and then
declaring that he had done his share, left the instrument and seated
himself by Charlie's side.

"Good, old man," said that young gentleman, in a whisper, "but where
in the world did you learn all that?"

"Dance hall and variety," whispered Dick. "Never thought I'd air that
accomplishment at a church social."