For it’s cold lying out on the ground,

And the cold north wind is whistlin,’

And I have no place to lie down.

I have no bag and no matches,

True and I’ll do you no harm,

I will tell you my story, kind mister

Tho’ it wrenches my heart like a bone.

It was three years ago last summer,

I ne’er will forget that sad day,

When a stranger drove out from the city,

For his health, said he, wanted to stay

Now the stranger was fair, tall and handsome,

Look’d like a man who had wealth,

And he wanted to stop in the country,

And he wanted to stop for his health.

Now my wife said she’d like to be earning,

Something to add to our home,

And she talk’d till I fin’lly decided

That the stranger could stay in our home.

That night as I came from my workshop,

Whistlin’ and singing with joy,

I was ’specting a kind-hearted welcome,

It would be from my wife and my boy.

Nothing there I find but a letter.

Placed in the room on a stand

And the moment my eyes lay upon it

I picked it right up in my hand.

Now the note said Stella and the stranger

Run away and taken my son,

Just as true there’s a God up in heaven,

Just as true this the stranger had done.