I was lookin' at the little bird house that we had hung in the tree-top.

Of a sudden I saw a tiny bit o' a 'warf--no longer than the thumb o' Mary--God love her!--on its wee porch an' lookin' down at me.
"'Good luck to ye!' says I.'Who are you ?' "'Who do ye think I am ?' says he.
"'Nobody,' says I.
"'That's just who I am,' says he, 'I'm Nobody from Nowhere--God save you from the like.' "'Glad to see ye,' says I.
"'Glad to be seen,' says he.

'There's a mighty few people can see me.' "'Looks to me as if ye were tellin' the truth,' says I.
"'Nobody is the only one that always tells the truth--God help ye,' says he.

'And here's a big chunk o' it.

Not one in a thousand ever gets the feet o' his mind in the land o' Nowhere--better luck to them!' "'Where is it ?' says I.
"'Up above the earth where the great God keeps His fiddle,' says he.
"'What fiddle ?' says I.
"'The fiddle o' silence,' says he.