Here's the text from the broadside: (See the link in the previous message.)

THE LITTLE HERO

From Liverpool 'cross the Atlantic,
The good ship floating o'er the deep,
The skies bright with sunshine above us,
The waters beneath us asleep;
Not a bad-tempered mariner 'mongst us,
A jollier crew never sailed,
'Cept the first mate, a bit of a savage,
But good seamen as ever was hailed.
One day, he came from below deck
A-grasping a lad by the arm,
A poor little ragged young urchin,
As ought to 'a' been home with his marm;
An' the mate asked the boy pretty roughly,
How he dared for to be stowed away,
A-cheatin' the owners an' captain,
Sailing, eating, an' all, without pay?

The lad had a face bright and sunny,
An' a pair o' blue eyes like a girl's;
An' looks up at the scowling first mate, boys,
An' shakes back his long shining curls;
An' says he, in a voice clear an' pretty,
"My step-father brought me aboard,
And hid me away down the stairs there,
For to keep me he could not afford;
And he told me the big ship would take me
To Halifax town, oh! so far,
And he said, "Now the hold is your father,
Who lives where the good angels are."
"It's a lie!" says the mate. "Not your father,
But some o' these big skulkers here;
Some milk-hearted soft-headed sailor.
Speak up! Tell the truth! D'ye hear?"

Then that pair o' blue eyes bright and winning,
Clear and shining with innocent youth,
Looks up at the mate's bushy eyebrows
And says, "Sir, I've told you the truth!"
Then the mate pulled his watch from his pocket,
Just as if he'd been drawing his knife.
"If in ten minutes more you don't tell, lad,
There's the rope, an' good-bye to dear life!"
Eight minutes went by all in silence.
Says the mate then, "Speak, lad. Say your say."
His eyes slowly filling with tear-drops,
He falteringly says, "May I pray?"

And the little chap kneels on the deck there,
And his hands he clasps o'er his breast
As he must have done often at home, lads,
At nighttime when going to rest;
And soft came the first words: "Our Father!"
Low and clear, from those dear baby lips;
But low as they were, heard like a trumpet
By each trueman aboard o' that ship.
Every bit of that prayer then he goes through,
To "for ever and ever. Amen!"
An' for all the bright gold in the Indies,
I wouldn't ha' heard him again.
Off his knees was the lad sudden lifted
And clasped to the mate's rugged breast;
An' his husky voice muttered, "God bless you!"
As his lips to his forehead he pressed.
"You believe me now?" then said the youngster.
"Believe you?" – he kissed him once more –
"You have laid down your life for the truth, lad.
I believe you from now evermore."