His coat had seen better days and his hair needed a trim, but he had his pride and refused to beg. For this tall erect obviously poor man arose from the fall he had just taken and attempted to convert his dishelved appearance into a modicum of respectability. For times were hard and he would not beg although when he sat down people would give him money.

He smiled and with his head held high he strode to the mall where he took off the old tartan scarf which was quite tattered but, like the man, clean and still somewhat dignified. Then from his mouth came the most melodious baritone notes as he began to sing Irish ballads.

Within an hour he had money for a room and two offers to make a living singing in a Pub and a small Gaelic cafe. He did not have to beg, he paid his way with his voice.

� Tom ([email protected])