Maisie was an old lady down our street
Who scared us kids if ever we did meet
She wore a rosary our parents said
The cross of which that was made of bone
From her dead husband's fingers; how we moaned!
Which made us scared before we went to bed
We would laugh at the tale when were older
And would pass her house when we were bolder
For it was one way she still had him close
Ma said it was because she loved him so
Dad said it was she wouldn't let him go
Young sis Ann covered her ears filled with dread
