[Arry]

Tomlin dropped his fiddle down to his waist as the last chorus was sung, and tapped out the rhythm on its bowed wood back. When the last notes from Falco had just begun to die down, he nodded to him with a smile. ‘Now, sir, that’s a fine old song . . . but have you heard this verse?’ He played the opening notes to the song, humming in his sweet tenor voice.

‘Twas sung to me by man who’d traveled south, he went on, ‘far south, where there are rare gaudy birds living side by side with men. Birds who can talk, the piper said, and live as long or longer than any man. Oft times they are companions to the lonely or to those who prefer the company of birds to other men.’ He laughed a bit. ‘In this case, it was a case of a lonely lady making do . . .’

Well now I'm away home ‘cause there’s nobody heeding
There’s nobody heedin’ to poor old Rosie’s pleadin’.
I'll go away to my own wee bit garret
If I can't get a man, then I'll surely get a parrot!

The others grinned at the additional verse, then ended the song with another chorus.

And it's oh dear me! How will it be . . .
if I die an Old Maid in the Garret?

Another round of ale was called for and gotten. And Fallon, still tapping his toe to the last tune asked, ‘Wasn’t there also a verse we learned . . . one about a quite sooty chimney sweep . . . and how he married the old gal out of pity?’