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R 
 
 A N D OM 
 H Y M E S 
 
 BEING A COLLECTION OF DIALECT 
 AND OTHER PIECES 
 
 -BY- 
 
 D. E. HATT. 
 
 COPYRIGHT APPLIED FOR 
 
 This Edition of One Thousand Copies is 
 
 Dedicated to the Okanagan Ambulance 
 
 League, and the Proceeds Above Cost 
 
 of Printing will be Given to the Funds 
 
 of the Red Cross Society. 
 
 $rice ®tpentp=jFttie Cent* 
 
Review Publishing Co., Ltd., 
 Summerland, B.C. 
 
 1915 
 
.3 
 
 Sanborn Jlfjpme* ^ 
 
 tf/S' 
 
 aCfie g>asftatcf)etoan (grain (Srotoer M^ 
 
 ^IT HE wind-fanned flame leaps lightly through 
 ^ the grass, 
 
 Flickers and fails; flares up and leaps again; 
 Swift flocks of startled prairie chickens pass 
 
 And skim on stiffened wing across the plain. 
 
 The gopher gallops madly o'er the field, 
 Then, frozen, stands and simulates a stick, 
 
 But, stricken with panic, quickly uncongealed, 
 Hies to his hole, and there repeats the trick. 
 
 The rabbit's fuzzy coat of winter white 
 
 Is all besmirched with streaks of sombre brown, 
 
 As if his mad March-frolics overnight 
 
 Had knocked Dame Nature's signs of "Wet 
 Paint" down. 
 
 Ever with noiseless tread the gray house-cat 
 Among the stubble stalks the thieving mouse, 
 
 And, toiling ceaselessly, the brown musk-rat 
 Repairs the winter's damage to his house. 
 
 Once more the nightly chorus of the frogs 
 Proclaims to all the glad return of spring, 
 
 While partridges parade the hollow logs 
 And tango to the beat of drumming wing. 
 
 In frequent flocks far-flying water fowl 
 
 Light on the lake with loud-resounding quack! 
 
 And in the nearby bush is heard the howl 
 Of King Coyote summoning his pack. 
 
 From dawn till dark the plaintive kildees wail, 
 Northward the far-strung flock of wild geese 
 goes, 
 
 While everywhere is heard o'er hill and dale 
 The bickering blackbirds and the cawing crows. 
 
 782 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 Pink under white from curly tail to snout 
 The sow's prolific progeny are led afield, 
 
 The young of sheep and cattle play about 
 
 And brooding hens their callow charges shield. 
 
 Bring from the stall the sleek, well- wintered 
 steed, 
 
 Strike out the lands and speed the shining plow, 
 In toil and hope cast in the precious seed, 
 
 The mellow soil stands ready for it now. 
 
 Lo! the swift change: the sombre fallow field 
 Is covered with luxurious robes of green 
 
 Whose billowy folds to amorous breezes yield, 
 Beneath the glowing sunset's golden sheen. 
 
 Soft showers and the lengthened summer light 
 Bring rapid growth, and soon the ripening grain 
 
 Stands in the autumn sun, inspiring sight! 
 One golden glory over all the plain. 
 
 Dangers of drought and fears of frost are past; 
 
 The clattering binders and the sweating teams 
 And men toiling like Titans heap at last 
 
 A harvest rich beyond a miser's dreams. 
 
 Stiff stands the stubble o'er the far-flung field, 
 The mellow soil shines yellow in the sun; 
 
 In stook and stack a generous golden yield 
 Proclaims the weary work of harvest done. 
 
 Now list the traction engine's noisy clang, 
 And rumbling separator, down the wind, 
 
 The slow-speed special of the threshing gang, 
 Trailing the tank team and caboose behind. 
 
 'Twixt even rows of stacks on either hand, 
 * Broad-belted to the engine's driving wheel, 
 The separator now is quickly manned, 
 And knashes all its myriad teeth of steel. 
 
 Loud clang and clatter, rumble, roar and shout, 
 And swelling smoke and strings of toiling 
 teams, 
 
 And flying sheaves and dust and belching spout, 
 Now issue forth in copious golden streams. 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 Upon the housewife's ample kitchen stove 
 Steam savory pots that boil and bubble still, 
 
 While tempting rows of pastry stand above, 
 And smoking roasts the sizzling oven fill. 
 
 With headlong haste rush in the hungry horde 
 At meal time, and with easy etiquette 
 
 Assail the abundance of the loaded board, 
 Like Benjamin's, with double portions set. 
 
 Rough minters of the farmer's current coin, 
 Rude riflers of the treasures of the stack, 
 
 The farm-hands with the household gladly join 
 To speed your parting, nor could wish you back. 
 
 A moment rests the gusty autumn gale 
 And in the pause is heard a distant clang, 
 
 As, shape and pace like an enormous snail, 
 Moves off the threshing outfit and its gang. 
 
 As where a nation's secret hoard is piled 
 In treasure vault, now lies the golden grain 
 
 In bulging bag and bursting bin, and wild 
 Winds sweep the silly straw o'er the plain. 
 
 Safe-sheltered now within his cosy home, 
 With food and fuel plentiful for all, 
 
 The farmer feels no dread of ills to come, 
 And every beast is happy in his stall. 
 
 Books long neglected, and the weekly news, 
 Farm journals, and the things the wise ones say, 
 
 In pleasant leisure he may now peruse, 
 Nor fill with heavy task the shortened day. 
 
 The monthly gatherings of his friends in toil, 
 With warm discussion and prolonged debate, 
 
 Bear fruit in added skill to till the soil 
 And dignify the farmer's hard estate. 
 
 Oft the long winter evenings are beguiled 
 In social gatherings of well-tried friends, 
 
 Whereat, when happiness on all has smiled, 
 A midnight feast the cheerful session ends. 
 
 Heedless of cold along the snowy trail 
 
 The well-clad children to the school repair, 
 
 No weekly Sabbath sees the household fail 
 
 To join their neighbors in the place of prayer. 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 Homes have their harvests, and from such as this 
 God gives the world his worthiest and his best; 
 
 Angels might envy their unrivalled bliss 
 Whose sons and daughters have withstood the 
 test. 
 
 Learn to till better still the mellow soil, 
 Press valiantly the fight for better seed, 
 
 Improve thy stock, and God requite thy toil, 
 But give us citizens of better breed. 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 4ttj> ®lh Cajmse 
 
 k OME like to travel on the train, some like 
 
 the auto best, 
 And some must have their coach and pair to give 
 
 their travel zest, 
 Some like the soaring aeroplane, but I make no 
 
 excuse 
 That I prefer to all of these my spavined old 
 
 Cayuse. 
 
 I made old Bill's acquaintance first some thirty 
 
 years ago, 
 When he was running with the bunch, and by 
 
 George! he could go; 
 The Rancher threw his lariat and spit tobacco 
 
 juice 
 Until he cast ten devils out of that piebald Cayuse. 
 
 We saddled Bill and bridled him and led him 
 
 'round awhile, 
 And when I started to get up I saw the Rancher 
 
 smile, 
 I caught my stirrup, dug my spurs, and then 
 
 old Bill cut loose 
 As if a score of devils dwelt inside that wild 
 
 Cayuse. 
 
 We struck]] the perpendicular, then suddenly 
 
 reversed, 
 And forty different motions tried to see which 
 
 could be first, 
 And when he bucked in proper style I landed in 
 
 the sluice, 
 And waited till the Rancher caught my circling 
 
 Cayuse. 
 
 Of course I would not give him up and so I tried 
 
 again, 
 Until he let me keep my seat and guide him 
 
 with the rein. 
 I found him tough as hickory and speedy as a 
 
 moose, 
 And money never tempted me to part with my 
 
 Cayuse. 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 At length the time that comes to all, the time 
 
 of making love, 
 Arrived for me, and I set out to imitate the dove. 
 You may depend we tidied up, and made 
 
 ourselves look spruce, 
 Until at last we won our prize, I and my good 
 
 Cayuse. 
 
 Four years of pleasure unalloyed sped o'er us as 
 
 a day, 
 And then the darkness settled down upon my life 
 
 to stay, 
 The best that we could do for her we found was 
 
 all no use, 
 She left me in the world alone, save for my old 
 
 Cayuse. 
 
 At round-up time the boys all planned to have a 
 
 day of sport, 
 And looked with scorn upon the man who tried 
 
 to hold the fort, 
 But when they got to raising Cain, I'd cut the 
 
 whole caboose, 
 And live the old days o'er again alone with my 
 
 Cayuse. 
 
 With tender memories clustering around my 
 
 dear old Bill, 
 You will not wonder at my wish to have him 
 
 near me still, 
 Perhaps you'll call it sentiment, and take me 
 
 for a goose, 
 But she seems nearer to me when I'm with my 
 
 old Cayuse. 
 
 The years have told upon us both, our best days 
 
 are behind, 
 But while we have each other still I think we 
 
 shall not mind ; 
 I'd like to ford The Stream with Bill— what's 
 
 that you say? the deuce! 
 He's gone across ahead of me — Goodbye, my old 
 Cayuse. 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 ©feanagan GKHeatfjer 
 
 OAST skies are dark and mud is deep, 
 And endless waters sop and seep, 
 While clouds and mists their vigil keep, 
 
 For days together. 
 And now, with horrid might and main, 
 Old Boreas bellows o'er the plain, 
 While we take up the cheerful strain 
 Of Okanagan weather. 
 
 A soft spring-song of liquid notes, 
 From out a myriad golden throats, 
 In cadent undulations floats 
 
 High hills to nether; 
 A saturated day or two, 
 Beneath the irridescent blue, 
 Then, presto— everything is new — 
 
 That's Okanagan weather. 
 
 The blush of bloom on bench and slope, 
 And all the world athrill with hope, 
 The soul with such tremendous scope, 
 
 Forgets it tether; 
 The hills a frame of living green. 
 And over all a wondrous sheen 
 That never otherwhere was seen — 
 
 That's Okanagan weather. 
 
 Those ideal days when forth we fare 
 To wander, wander, anywhere, 
 With never weariness or care 
 
 As tough as leather ; 
 Slaking our thirst at mountain rill, 
 While rod and gun our larder fill, 
 And all God's wondrous world is still — 
 
 That's Okanagan weather. 
 
 A snappy, stimulating frost, 
 
 As winter puts us one acrost, 
 
 And all our hills with snow embossed, 
 
 Light as a feather; 
 The joy of cold without extreme, 
 The days of which the tropics dream, 
 A sort of climatic ice cream — 
 
 That's Okanagan weather. 
 
10 RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 Take all the wonders of the Coast, 
 The sunshine which the prairies boast, 
 The days our Eastern friends love most, 
 
 All rolled together, 
 Then add from every continent 
 The choicest things their climes have blent, 
 You'll understand then what is meant 
 
 By Okanagan weather. 
 
 Though on your native soil there grows 
 The shamrock green or red red rose, 
 Or came you from the land where blows 
 
 The bonnie heather; 
 Rest here, contented with your lot, 
 Nor seek for further-favored spot, 
 Earth holds no finer thing, I wot, 
 
 Than Okanagan weather. 
 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 11 
 
 September in tije ©feanagan JMlte 
 
 ,EPTEMBER in the Okanagan hills; 
 
 Did clime and calendar e'er furnish more? 
 A brimming bowl with nectar Nature fills, 
 And schools her lovers in her mystic lore. 
 Around their hearts she weaves a magic spell, 
 Which through the passing years still lives and 
 thrils 
 Them with a deeper yearning yet to dwell 
 With sweet September in the Okanagan hills. 
 
 September in the Okanagan hills; 
 
 The earth beneath our feet is warm and soft; 
 There's music in the gurgling crystal rills, 
 
 There's music in the breezes up aloft 
 That sigh through mountain pines in deep con- 
 tent, 
 The while a merry songster madly trills. 
 Oh, life is sweet and Heaven with earth seems 
 blent 
 When breathes September through the Okana- 
 gan hills. 
 
 September in the Okanagan hills; 
 
 Ye slaves of toil and worry, soon and late, 
 On-rushing with the ceaseless pace that kills, 
 
 Following Fortune's swift and tireless gait 
 Turn you aside into the untrod trails, 
 
 And find a medicine for all your ills 
 Where springs a living fount that never fails; 
 Ho! for September in the Okanagan hills. 
 
 September in the Okanagan hills; 
 
 I sit and feast on food almost divine, 
 Sweeter to me by far than earth's great grills; 
 
 Here Nature's luscious offerings are mine. 
 I dine on rainbow trout and breast of grouse; 
 
 I drink where living water springs and spills, 
 I lie and sleep as in my father's house — - 
 
 He made September and the Okanagan hills. 
 
 September in the Okanagan hills; 
 
 Mine be this joy again and yet again, 
 Until the ardor of my life-blood chills 
 
 With that slow change which ever comes to 
 men, 
 
12 
 
 RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 Then let me climb once more, with heavy tread, 
 And lay me down, e'er death my heart throb 
 stills, 
 
 Upon a sun-kissed, wind-swept dying bed — 
 Farewell September and the Okanagan hills. 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 13 
 
 g>ometo!)ere 3n Jfrance 
 
 X>ME WHERE in France" to a mother's 
 heart 
 
 He pencilled these words of cheer: 
 Feeling fit and ready to start 
 
 For the trenches, Mother Dear; 
 Our forces will eagerly welcome the day 
 When we shall be thrust in the thick of the fray, 
 Here's hoping that orders will shorten our stay 
 'Somewhere in France'." 
 
 "Somewhere in France" through the shell- 
 swept night 
 A Canadian regiment lay 
 In water and mud awaiting the light 
 
 And the charge at the dawn of the day; 
 Forward they rushed with a terrible shout 
 Driving the Huns to confusion and rout, 
 But many brave fellows had fallen out 
 "Somewhere in France." 
 
 "Somewhere in France" 'neath a Red Cross tent 
 
 A stricken hero lay, 
 While a Nursing Sister about him bent- 
 There was nothing to do but pray; 
 But never a murmur came from him 
 For the deadly wound and the shattered limb, 
 But he thought of home as the light grew dim 
 "Somewhere in France." 
 
 "Somewhere in France" in a soldier's grave 
 
 Sleeps the heroic dead, 
 And a rude cross, fashioned by comrades brave, 
 
 Stands sentinel at his head. 
 While still must the stricken mother weep, 
 And her lonely vigil for ever keep 
 For her darling soldier boy asleep 
 "Somewhere in France." 
 
 "Somewhere in France" the hand of Fate 
 
 Is fashioning day by day 
 A mighty weapon of deadly hate 
 
 And vengeance that knows no stay, 
 For the Kaiser and all his heartless Huns 
 Who have murdered mothers and little ones, 
 A death-knell sounds in the roar of guns 
 "Somewhere in France." 
 
14 RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 STofmme Canuck tit Jfrattce 
 
 OTOHNNIE Canuck is a lively chap, a son of 
 
 /JJ the open ways, 
 
 A Hercules when he turns to work, a strenuous 
 
 lad when he plays, 
 On Canadian soil he won his spurs, and what can 
 
 his fame enhance? 
 But wait awhile till you hear the tale of Johnnie 
 
 Canuck in France. 
 
 He leaped at the sound of the bugle's note and 
 
 sailed from his Western land 
 To the scenes of war where duty called all ready 
 
 to lend a hand, 
 But many a game in the leisure days and many a 
 
 merry dance 
 Bore witness to all the playful ways of Johnny 
 
 Canuck in France. 
 
 Johnnie Canuck has a tender spot in his heart for 
 
 the ladies fair, 
 And of course he couldn't be blind to all the 
 
 lovely maidens there, 
 So many a smile and a "parlez-vous" and many 
 
 a rich romance 
 Attended upon the journeyingsof Johnnie Canuck 
 
 in France. 
 
 Soon scenes of pleasure were left behind and 
 
 ladies he bade adieu, 
 The days were filled with heavy toil and hours of 
 
 rest were few, 
 But never once did he shirk his share and never 
 
 he looked askance 
 For all the wearisome days and nights of Johnnie 
 
 Canuck in France. 
 
 On the firing line the thunder of guns resounds 
 
 through the sleepless night. 
 The veterans and the raw recruits are eager to 
 
 join the fight, 
 And mounted guard or as sentry set the foe had 
 
 never a chance 
 To gain the lines of the British troops with 
 
 Johnnie Canuck in France. 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 15 
 
 To the eager waiters who ever peer over the 
 
 trenches' marge 
 Is passed along the welcome word "The Huns 
 
 are about to charge," 
 Steady and strong is the British line and steady 
 
 and keen the lance 
 That hurls them back in the sturdy hand of 
 
 Johnnie Canuck in France. 
 
 Behind the curling and choking smoke are the 
 
 men of the Prussian Guard, 
 The flower of German soldiery, and their hearts, 
 
 as their steel, are hard, 
 But through the breath of the Pit is seen the 
 
 resistless British advance, 
 And right in the front of the glorious fray is 
 
 Johnnie Canuck in France. 
 
 After the charge and the German rout the men of 
 
 the Red Cross came 
 To tend the wounded and lay the dead in a 
 
 grave of deathless fame, 
 Wounded and fainting they found him there, 
 
 l>ing as in a trance, 
 And tender hands gave healing care to Johnnie 
 
 Canuck in France. 
 
 Covered with glory, the struggle o'er, returning 
 
 with joy and pride, 
 Shall come the hero home again, with valor and 
 
 vigor tried, 
 And the German mother will tell her child, and 
 
 shudder the while, perchance, 
 Of the awful days when his father fought with 
 
 Johnnie Canuck in France. 
 
 And strangely enough, when the war is done, 
 
 and peace comes to earth to remain, 
 Throwing his weapons aside he will walk in 
 
 Industry's ways again; 
 His mother's joy and his father's pride, in the 
 
 quiet old-fashioned Manse, 
 Unspoiled by the scars and glory won as Johnnie 
 
 Canuck in France. 
 
16 RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 (going Jffefjmg 
 
 TlfflJE went a-fishing, did Blanche and I, 
 W ^* With a rising sun and a cloudless sky, 
 For twelve good miles we rode our wheels 
 With the joy that youthful vigor feels, 
 And we walked to the top of the heavy grade 
 And rested awhil-e in a pleasant shade, 
 Then coasted the other side of the ridge 
 And left our wheels at a rustic bridge. 
 Then we rigged our rods and cast our fly 
 On the pools where the speckled beauties lie. 
 We fished up many a noisy run 
 And talked and laughed and had lots of fun, 
 And we stealthily cast on the mirrored pools, 
 Observant of all the fishing rules, 
 'Till we found, at the foot of a lofty fall, 
 The largest and loveliest pool of all, 
 And I caught the biggest fish of my life, 
 For I persuaded Blanche to become my wife. 
 
 As we sauntered homeward arm in arm 
 
 The shy wood creatures felt no alarm, 
 
 And we climbed the grade and we coasted 
 
 down, 
 And wheeled in the gloaming back to town. 
 But oh, the joy of that summer night, 
 And oh, the well-earned appetite; 
 And the taste of the trout was most divine, 
 For her eyes were smiling back into mine; 
 And when I kissed her at last good-night, 
 Her face was suffused with a wondrous light. 
 
 Full many a day we have fished since then, 
 For our sons and daughters are women and 
 
 men, 
 And many a tramp and an outdoor meal, 
 And a homeward walk with a crowded creel; 
 But by far the loveliest spot all 
 Was the pool at the foot of that waterfall ; 
 And the greatest joy I have found in life, 
 I found when Blanche said she would be my 
 
 wife. 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 17 
 
 So to-day we went to that spot once more, 
 
 Not wheeling, the way we went before, 
 
 But side by side in a buggy seat, 
 
 With a top to shelter us from the heat. 
 
 We travelled slowly across the ridge 
 
 And turned to the left at the rutsic ridge, 
 
 And the steady horse drew the easy load 
 
 Along the uneven hauling road; 
 
 And each of us caught a silver trout, 
 
 And laughed and wept as we pulled him 
 
 oat, 
 For this was our silver-wedding day, 
 And we kissed each other and drove away. 
 And Blanche half whispered to me "Dear 
 
 Heart, 
 When the time arrives that we two must 
 
 part, 
 If I should be the first to go, 
 And I ever pray that it may be so, 
 Beside the river of love and life 
 You will find again your waiting wife." 
 And I drew her closer still to me 
 With eyes so full I could scarcely see, 
 And I thanked my God for my happy lot, 
 And the biggest fish that I ever caught. 
 
18 RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 Borotftp Soleful of tlje ftuiuftine 
 Committee 
 
 'XCUSE me, dear, may I come in? 
 
 You have heard of me, I am Dorothy 
 Doleful, 
 I live to comfort the sick and sad, 
 And the tears I've shed would make a bowlful. 
 
 How bad you look — let me fan you — so, 
 You must be suffering something fearful, 
 Don't think me lacking in sympathy — 
 My heart just aches, if I do look cheerful. 
 
 Poor soul, I guess you need someone 
 To cheer you up — now, dear, don't weep — 
 Though I'm not surprised — but settle down 
 And try to get a little sleep. 
 
 How much you look, as you lie that way, 
 With your sunken eyes and your face so drawn, 
 Like my poor dead sister; but there, my dear, 
 We mustn't grieve for them that's gone. 
 
 It may be you will get over this 
 
 And live for years before you die, 
 
 And then, Dear Friend, if you have to go, 
 
 Just think of your mansion in the sky. 
 
 They tell me I always cheer the sick, 
 And goodness knows I'm glad of that; 
 All my own folks are in their graves, 
 And I've no one left but my darling cat. 
 
 And she, poor thing, is old and sick, 
 And perhaps will be dying before you yet; 
 So I spend my life for the sick and sad. 
 For it ain't no manner of use to fret. 
 
 I must be going, Goodbye, my dear, 
 We may never meet in this world again; 
 But do be cheerful, I've always heard 
 It makes you stronger to bear your pain. 
 
 If you do get worse just send for me, 
 I've helped so many dear people die, 
 And I'll gladly help you, so let me know. 
 Remember, Be Cheerful — Goodbye. Goodbye! 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 19 
 
 a Cosmopolitan Jf east 
 
 (7i GENTLEMAN in Winnipeg, whose name you 
 ^ need not know, 
 
 Arranged to hold a novel feast some little while 
 ago; 
 He asked a representative of every dialect 
 To celebrate Empire Day apart from race or 
 sect. 
 
 The Bill of Fare attended to, the Chairman rose 
 
 to say : 
 "A native born Canadian, I greet you all to-day; 
 To His Most Gracious Majesty, I now propose 
 
 a toast, 
 The Empire, and Canada, the Land we love the 
 most." 
 
 A portly, well-dressed Johnnie Bull arose and 
 
 bowed with grace: 
 "Aw, really now, excuse me, friends, if I usurp 
 first place; 
 I cheer this loyal sentiment, and dub that man 
 
 an ass, 
 Or bally, bloomin' idiot, who dares turn down 
 his glass." 
 
 "Hoots mon," cried Sandy from Argyll, "Per- 
 haps ye dinna ken 
 We a' are brithers here the nicht, an* leal Em- 
 pire men; 
 The Thistle's bloom's as saft as silk; it wounds 
 
 the hand wha' smites, 
 And while oor Great Empire stan's, a' men 
 shall hae their richts." 
 
 "Begorra, byes, Home Rule or no, Hurrah for 
 
 Ireland," 
 Cried Patrick Murphy, late of Cork, who was the 
 next to stand. 
 "If any wan disputes the toast, bad cess to 
 
 that spalpeen. 
 Fight for the owld Red, White and Blue, and 
 don't forget the green." 
 
 Louis LeBlanc, the Canayen, addressed the Chair- 
 man then: 
 
 "I come from Montreal, Kebbec, an' Laurier's 
 ma frien', 
 
20 RAND OM RHYMES 
 
 I'm born on Canadaw, mese'f, an' love ma own 
 
 countrie, 
 So eef it ever come de fight, ba gosh jes' count 
 
 on me." 
 
 Said Yacob Kaiser: "Yah Mein Vriends, mein 
 
 heart vas in mein mout' 
 Till I vind on dot Bill of Vare some bully Sauer 
 Kraut. 
 Ven I vas leave mein Vaterland I tink das iss 
 
 nein goot, 
 But now I vinds mein Mudderland und chines 
 dis Brudderhoot." 
 
 Next Israel Levinsky rose, a Jew of Russian 
 
 birth: 
 "See vat dis land have done for us, offscourin's 
 ov de eart' ; 
 Ve puts our hands upon de plow an' ve will not 
 
 turn back, 
 Ve vinds beace und brosperity beneat' de 
 Union Shack." 
 
 "Vail, My Dear Friends, I have bane tank," big 
 
 Ole Yonson said, 
 "It's time for everyone reyoice and holdin' oop 
 de head; 
 I come Stockholm by Nye Yark, and I bane 
 
 tank all slob 
 Wat can't respon' on Toast like dat he better 
 yomp his yob." 
 
 Then Antony Petrucai spoke: "Me sella nice 
 
 banan\ 
 An* sometime taka wife an' monk an make 
 musique by han\ 
 Me lika leevdis counterie an' maka plenty mon, 
 So wen you drinka disa Toas' be sure geev 
 Tony wan." 
 
 To cap the climax of it all "The Colonel" last 
 
 upsprang, 
 With silvered moustache and goatee and tell-tale 
 nasal twang: 
 "Wall naow, I swan, if this ain't great; I like 
 
 this speerit fine, 
 From naow and henceforth till I die, its Can- 
 nady for mine." 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 21 
 
 Then all arose and drank the toast in sparkling 
 
 aqua pura. 
 The Chairman's face was wreathed in smiles and 
 bright as an aurora, 
 And in a bond of loyalty no difference could 
 
 sever, 
 They sang in many dialects "The Maple Leaf 
 For Ever." 
 
 & imutotnograpfne, pa <©ostf)! 
 
 'EN I am young feller — das long tarn ago — 
 I'm axin' ma fader tak me to de show; 
 He pull out hees pipe an' look on ma face, 
 An' say, "No Siree, I don' go on dem place, 
 Ba Gosh!" 
 
 One day I am eatin' small piece of tabac, 
 No sooner I get heem inside on ma jaw 
 Ma stummik is stannin' on top of ma head 
 An' mak' me feel sorry I cannot come dead — 
 Ba Gosh! 
 
 I go de pic-nic, me, on Parish Ste. Anne; 
 I'm eighteen dat fall, an soon be de man; 
 Marie LaJeunesse trow de smile on ma face, 
 An' I mak up ma min' she's bes' girl on dat 
 place, 
 
 Ba gosh! 
 
 Marie an' mese'f we bot' mak marier, 
 An' leesen so quiet to all Pries' is say; 
 An, when, bimeby, he spik de "Amen," 
 He say "Dat will cos' you ten dollar, ma 
 frien' ." 
 
 Ba Gosh! 
 
 Ma wife get so seek she can not be no worse, 
 I sen' for de Docteur, and he bring de Nurse; 
 I'm waitin' an' prayin' till Docteur come out 
 An' say "Das tree twin," and den I am shout 
 BaGosh! 
 
 Wen chil'ren is jes' commencin' to walk, 
 An' more every day for larnin' de talk, 
 Ma wife say to me das very bad trick 
 For|havin' de garcon hear me w'en I spik, 
 Ba Gosh! 
 
22 RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 De Irishman say "Begorra," all tarn; 
 An' English "Ba Jove," was mean jes' de sam; 
 De Scotch say"Hoots Mon," and de Yankee say 
 
 "Gee;" 
 But bes' word of all I'm t'inkin' is be 
 Ba Gosh! 
 
 I'm sayin' ma prayer an' 'ten' in' de Mass, 
 Dat w'en "Au Revoir" I mus' spik at de las', 
 De holy St. Peter, was kipin' de key, 
 Don' say dere's no place on de inside for me, 
 Ba Gosh! 
 
 JBe &oot' ffiocteur 
 
 De Horse Docteur he treat de horse, 
 Physician cure de cough; 
 De Toot' Docteur fill up de toot'— 
 No good fill up, pull off. 
 
 A wife she got de bad toot'ache, I can't 
 stay roun' de place, 
 She git so cross an' scol' so moche, an* swell up 
 on de face; 
 At las' I say "You mus' go in an' see de Toot' 
 
 Docteur, 
 An' if de toot's no good fill up, we pull him off 
 for sure." 
 
 So I heech up de ol' gray horse, on buggy los' 
 
 de top; 
 He's not moche good for mak de go, but fine one 
 sure for stop; 
 Ma wife she tie aroun' de head wit' shawl, an' 
 
 eat de clove; 
 So we start off for Saskatoon, an' mak dat ol' 
 horse move. 
 
 Dat road she's only fifteen mile, but seem lak 
 
 feefty sure; 
 Ma wife she cry an' scol' at me till she can't 
 spik no more; 
 I break ol' horse upon de whip, den cut de 
 
 pople tree, 
 But he don' git one half de cut ma wife she 
 lay on me. 
 
RANDOM RHYM ES 23 
 
 At las' I say, "Ba Gosh! Elmire, you better tak 
 
 de rein, 
 If dat horse git one half I got he never stop 
 again." 
 She say "All right,' ' an' den, sapre! we git 
 
 dere putty soon, 
 For ol' horse never broke de trot till we reach 
 Saskatoon. 
 
 I know me one good Toot' Docteur, hees nam' 
 
 she's Doc. Buylea, 
 He come Kebbec, or New Brunswick, or some 
 place down dat way. 
 I say to heem, "Ma wife, Elmire, she's feelin' 
 
 putty toff, 
 So if de toot's no good fill up, we got to pull 
 him off." 
 
 He say "All right," den place Elmire upon de 
 
 iron chair, 
 Were she is cry and screech some more, an' 
 pullin' on de hair; 
 Ba gosh, I tink she go crazee wen he is ponch 
 
 de gum, 
 But Doc. don't seem to min' at all, I tink he's 
 laffin' some. 
 
 He git heem mebbe honder pair of pincher from 
 
 de she'f— 
 No wonder ma poor wife feel scare, I feel dat 
 way mese'f — 
 An' den he look de toot' agin, an' geev one 
 
 leetle cough, 
 An' 'fore I tink he mak de start, he's got dat 
 toot' pull off. 
 
 He git some water on de glass, an' geev Elmire 
 
 one sup, 
 Den say, "Ma frien', here's noder toot' I tink 
 we mus' fill up." 
 Den he commence for bore an' dig, ba gosh! I 
 
 can't stan' dat; 
 An' Elmire holler mos' de tam jas lak crazee 
 tom-cat. 
 
 He fill de mout' wit' cotton wool, an' stuff lak 
 
 rubber boot, 
 An' tie 'bout fifteen piece de string aroun' de 
 noder^oot'. 
 
24 RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 Den he commence for trot de foot, lak rock de 
 
 cradle fas' 
 An' hoF someting in Elmire's rnout', I tink 
 
 dat be her las'. 
 
 But still he turn dat fonny ting, look like de long 
 
 black snake, 
 Wit' red-hot sting upon hees nose, ba gosh! he 
 tak de cake; 
 He kill dat woman feety tarn, an' kill me too 
 
 also, 
 But still dat black snake sting ma wife, an' 
 Doc' don' let her go. 
 
 But bimeby he say "All right, dat hole she's 
 
 beeg enuff,*' 
 An' den he tak de small bottle, look lak de pizen 
 stuff; 
 I tink she's dead dis tarn, for sure, an' start 
 
 for interfere. 
 But Doc. he tink I'm interes', an' tol' me for 
 "Lookdere." 
 
 I look in leetle lookin' glass upon de en' of stick 
 An' see one hole das look so beeg it mak de 
 stummik sick. 
 But Doc. commence for fill heem up an' poun' 
 
 de gol' in place; 
 I commence tink dere's danger now he crack 
 Elmire she's face. 
 
 At las' he's done with' poun'in' lak woodpecker 
 
 on de tree, 
 An hoi' de leetle lookin'-glass so Elmire she can 
 see; 
 She dry de tear an' start for laff, I'm larfin' 
 
 too good deal, 
 She say, "Be gosh! das lookin' good, I don' 
 care how she feel." 
 
 Den Doc. he put de small grin' stone upon de 
 
 black snake' nose. 
 An' grin' dat toot' until I feel shiver in bot' ma 
 toes; 
 Den scratch de toot' wit' san' paper till all ma 
 
 toot' feel sore — 
 But Elmire tink about degol' an' never cry no 
 more. 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 25 
 
 At las* de job is finish an* Doc. cut off de string; 
 Ma wife she fin' de lookin' glass an' start right 
 off for sing, 
 She smile beeg lot for show de gol' she's got 
 
 upon de head, 
 An' say, "I'm sorry now I wish las' night 
 dat I am dead." 
 
 "Mebbe you got some toot' also was need de hole 
 
 bore in," 
 Doc. say to me, "If dat's de case its good tam 
 for begin." 
 I say, "No sir, ma toot's all right, you mus' 
 
 excuse to me, 
 I got no use for dat black snake wit' red-hot 
 nose, sapre!" 
 
 I pay de Toot' Docteur good cash for all de job 
 
 he do, 
 I tink mese'f its cos' enough, but den she's good 
 job too. 
 We laff and sing mos' all way home, de moon 
 
 is shinin' bright, 
 01' horse don' seem to min' de load our heart 
 is feel so light. 
 
 We fin' de chil'ren safe asleep, ol' Carlo bark 
 
 wit' joy, 
 Ma wife ronne on de house firs' ting for kiss de 
 girl an' boy; 
 An' wen she's comin' out agin an' hug me on 
 
 de door, 
 I tink, ba gosh! das cheapes' goF I never buy 
 before. 
 
 I tol' ma neighbor all around' de good bargain 
 
 I get- 
 Advise dem all do jes' de sam, an' nam' de man 
 you bet; 
 If wife is cross jes' go to heem, don' min' how 
 
 moche you pay, 
 She's cheap enough for cure he mak, dat Toot' 
 Docteur Buylea. 
 
26 RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 (Stye J|ome£tea&er 
 
 7('M leevin' on ma homestead, nort'-east from 
 ** Calgarie, 
 
 Got honder seexty acre, bes' Ian' you never see; 
 She's not'ing but de prairie wit'out debush or 
 
 slough, 
 Plough up de groun', trow in de seed, das all 
 I got to do. 
 
 Firs' year I plough ten acre, I don' got any horse, 
 Mus* heech de cow an' leetle ox, das be slow 
 work, of course; 
 But nex' year I am buyin' wat you call wiT 
 
 Broncho, 
 It mak de hair stan' up on en' for see de way 
 dey go. 
 
 Dat fall I have de trasher for trashin' out ma 
 
 wheat, 
 It kip me jompin' all de tarn, dey wan' so moche 
 for eat; 
 Dey burn ma straw upon injine, an 5 tak ma 
 
 wheat for pay; 
 Nex' fall I tink I tak de stick an' trash de oP 
 tarn way. 
 
 I buiP de leetle sod house, she's not de swell 
 
 maison, 
 I got no wife for cookin', no chiPren mak de 
 fonne. 
 Wit' cow an' horse an' leetle ox de small sod 
 
 barn be full, 
 An' jes' outside is pile de straw an' stack of 
 prairie wool. 
 
 For kip warm on de winter, I'm needin' plenty 
 
 wood, 
 Mus' haul it fifteen mile mese'f, w'enever road 
 is good; 
 An' w'en de well is freezin' up I melt de snow 
 
 for drink — 
 Das not so good lak wat I lef ' on Kebbec, I don' 
 tink. 
 
 But all de sam I'm happy an' soon forgit dem 
 
 ting 
 Wen I am git ma paten' two year ago las' spring, 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 11 
 
 Das tam de beeg excitement, enuff for turn de 
 
 head, 
 Wen railroad she is buil'in' alongside ma 
 
 homestead. 
 
 Nex' ting dey buil' de station, hotel, de bank an' 
 
 store ; 
 Of course de Church and Schoolhouse dey mus' 
 be dere for sure; 
 Den elevator's comin', blacksmit', docteur an' 
 
 all, 
 It look for sure in two, three year she's beeg 
 lak Montreal. 
 
 Dere's mebbe twenty office wat you call Real 
 
 Estate, 
 All say in', "You mus' buy de lot before it come 
 too late" 
 An' affer w'ile dey buy ma place, mus' be de 
 
 reeches' one, 
 Pay me de cash an' git de deed for mak sub- 
 division. 
 
 Dey filma farm wit' leetle steek, stan' up 'bout 
 
 seex inch high, 
 An' say dat every one of dem was be de house 
 bimeby; 
 Den geev de street all fancy nam', an' mak 
 
 nice lookin' plan, 
 An' sen' some feller sol' de lot an' fool de 
 Eas'ern man. 
 
 I put ma money on de bank, 'cept 'nuff for buy 
 
 tiquette, 
 An' travel back ma own countree, de happy man, 
 you bet! 
 An' affer w'ile dem nice French girl dey look 
 
 so good to me 
 I tink T got to settle down an' have de familee. 
 
 One day I see swell feller come on our leetle town, 
 An' try for git some people go Wes' an' settle 
 down; 
 "Nice lot, cos' tousan' dollar"— I'm almos' 
 
 comin' dead — 
 De lot he's tryin' sell us is on ma own 
 homestead. 
 
28 RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 Ten mont' I do de sparkin' den mak de marier, 
 An' everybody tink for sure I'm come back Eas' 
 for stay ; 
 But all de tarn I feel somet'ing, wat I can 
 
 never 'splain, 
 So affer w'ile I tak de wife an' go out Wes' 
 again. 
 
 We travel on de touris' car, an' Rosie cook de 
 
 meal 
 Some pork an* bean, an' apple-sass flavor wit' 
 orange peel; 
 We mak nice frien' an' have good tarn all way 
 
 to Calgarie, 
 "It seem jes' lak de weddin' tour," ma wife 
 is say to me. 
 
 In Calgarie we got hard job for fin* de leetle 
 
 room, 
 'Cause everyone is gone crazee on wat dey call 
 "Oil Boom," 
 An' holler out "De ten cent share to ten 
 
 dollarre may go," 
 But all de sam' I t' ink "Ba gosh! May go 
 not'ing also." 
 
 For stay among de crazee folk don' be safe t'ing 
 
 for me, 
 An' so we're startin' out agin nex' day from 
 Calgarie, 
 An' travel troo de gran' montagne we see 
 
 won'erful sight, 
 Until we're stoppin' off at place call Sicamous 
 dat night. 
 
 Das be nice place for spen' de night, wit' lovely 
 
 mountain air, 
 But feefty million skeeter fly I bet you mus' be 
 dere. 
 Nex' day we're startin' off agin on Okanagan 
 
 Branch, 
 An' affer steamboat trip we spen' de night on 
 fine fruit ranch. 
 
 Our frien' is mak us welcome on place call 
 
 Summerlan', 
 An' why dey be 50 happy it's easy un'erstan', 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 29 
 
 Got plenty fruit an' flower, de chicken an' de 
 
 bee; 
 I t'ink, mese'f, "Das be de place for kip 
 
 de familee." 
 
 So I am buy ten acre an' start enjoy ma life, 
 You cannot fin' more happy pair dan bot' me an' 
 ma wife; 
 De neighbor's mos' all Protestant, but dey're 
 good people too, 
 An' if dey're tryin' use you right wat more you 
 wan' to do? 
 
 We got no winter col' an' snow, 'cep' jes' wat 
 
 we enjoy; 
 Mese'f an' wife is feelin' young, all sam de girl 
 an' boy; 
 No beeg tempes' on summertam; an' eef you 
 
 un'erstan', 
 You come along yourse'f also for leev on 
 Summerlan'. 
 
30 RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 2|oto lout* (got 3n*ureb 
 
 ^ftO one can blame de French boy if dey love 
 ^A de Canayenne, 
 
 Someone may see de better, but you got to show 
 me wen; 
 Still, tarn I mak de marier on Parish of Ste. 
 
 Anne 
 T pass de Canayenne all by an' marry Irishman. 
 
 Bridget O'Brien is denam', wid rouge upon de 
 
 head, 
 An' leetle freckle on de nose — she's face also is 
 red; 
 But I don' min' de look at all wen I come 
 
 un'erstan' 
 Bridget she's jes' de fines' girl was leev upon 
 Ste. Anne. 
 
 She spik Francais lak Canayenne because de 
 
 moder's French, 
 An' on de school de Sister teach she set upon 
 fron' bench; 
 But some de tam wen I am tease dat girl she 
 
 say to me, 
 Jes' lak de fader, Pat O'Brien, "Be aisy now, 
 Louis." 
 
 De youngest of de chil'ren — we got tree 'sides de 
 
 cat — 
 I call Louis Napoleon, de moder call him Pat, 
 De nex' is Pierre, one leetle rogue, no finer 
 
 you can see; 
 An' baby girl, 1 'enfant, she's sweet, we call 
 Petite Marie. 
 
 We're leevin' on our leetle farm, she's forty acre 
 
 one, 
 Wit' small house buil' upon de road, an' barn 
 hoi' twenty ton; 
 I got one horse was be firs' class 'bout fifteen 
 
 year ago, 
 So you can see mus' be for sure much better 
 choual now. 
 
 I got four cow was geev de milk wen dey ain' 
 
 goin' dry, 
 An' tree four noder leetle one was be de cow 
 
 bimeby ; 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 31 
 
 Ma wife she keep de chicken, one guinea hen 
 
 for luck, 
 An' plenty more dem w'ite canard, wat 
 
 English call de duck. 
 
 We're happy dere upon our place, an got no 
 
 troub' at all, 
 Until ma brudder, Telesphore, he's comin' dead 
 las' fall; 
 He lef de leetle familee, four boy and tree 
 
 small girl, 
 Wit' broken-hearted moder, alone upon de 
 worl'. 
 
 Ma brudder he was hard work man, buttam she's 
 
 very bad, 
 He cannot pay de mortgage so he's feelin' putty 
 sad; 
 He ketch de col' upon de lung wen he get 
 
 wet wan day, 
 And putty soon he's dead wit' wat you call de 
 pneumoney. 
 
 Das mak me tink, ba gosh! mebbe I'm dyin' 
 
 some day too, 
 An' if I lef de familee, sapre! wat can dey do? 
 Wen dere is come along one day 'bout two tree 
 
 wick ago, 
 Wan dem nice lookin' city man, all dress up 
 on de show. 
 
 He's look lak walkin' checker boar', wit' boot 
 
 das mak box-toe, 
 An' leetle hat, 'bout two inch high, an' carry 
 cane also; 
 He spik "Bon Jour," lak Habitant, den' pass 
 
 right on de door 
 An' commence talk lak anyt'ing I never hear 
 before. 
 
 He know all 'bout mon frer is dead, an' leetle 
 
 one is lef, 
 An' tol' me mebbe feefty man he know come 
 dead hese'f ; 
 Den show nice lookin' paper, wat he call de 
 
 policie, 
 Is he'p de wife and' leetle one if I come dead, 
 sapre ! 
 
32 RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 Well, mak short story long enough, I'm wat you 
 
 call insure', 
 I sign one paper wit' ma name w'ile he is on de 
 door; 
 OF Doc. LeBlanc come ponche de rib, an' say 
 
 "HoP out de tongue," 
 Den ax me who's ma gran'fader an' eef he's 
 dyin' young. 
 
 I answer all de t'ing he ax, Bridget is he'p me 
 
 too, 
 An' affer w'ile he's satisfy an' say he t'ink I do; 
 Den feefty dollar good 1' argent I pay dat 
 
 'Surance man, 
 An' git nice lookin' Policie mak on Endow- 
 men' plan. 
 
 I'm feelin' putty good, mese'f, an' hope I leev 
 
 long tam, 
 But eef I'm leevin' twenty year de cash come jes' 
 de sam; 
 Den I will pay de mortgage off an' put res' on 
 
 de bank, 
 An' eef we're needin' leetle cash we got no 
 one to tank. 
 
 I know le Bon Dieu's very good on woman lef 
 
 behin', 
 An' for de leetle orphan chiP also is very kin' ; 
 I lef dem in Hees love an' care eef He is 
 
 callin' me. 
 But tink He's willin' have some he'p from 
 'Surance Companie. 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 33 
 
 Captain $terre leJUlanc, Jfle* 
 
 flMK man nam Drummon' write beeg pile 
 an' mak de Heep Hooraw, 
 About dem feller on Kebbec he call de Habitaw, 
 But he mus' be forget, hese'f, 'bout Canayen 
 
 we got, 
 Was jes' so good lak Kebbec men, on place 
 call' Arichat. 
 
 I t'ink she's tarn I mak de try for toP de 
 
 story too, 
 De way we Jeev on Arichat an' some de t'ing we 
 do, 
 But not'ing beeg an' won'erful I'm sure you 
 
 don' expec', 
 'Cause we don' lak for stretch de trut' lak 
 feller on Kebbec. 
 
 Firs' winter I am beeg enuff for un'erstannin' 
 
 well, 
 Ma fader salt ten puncheon down dem tinker 
 mackerel, 
 Ma moder say she's not lak eat dem t'ing on 
 
 every meal, 
 So mak de change she get shese'f ten, twelve 
 barrel of eel. 
 
 Of all good t'ing we have for eat I lak bes' have 
 
 agin 
 Some ma ol' moder's good eel soup wit' plenty 
 doughboy in. 
 Dem Kebbec feller, let dem have crapeau an' 
 
 fancy deesh, 
 Bet wen I'm hongry pass along plenty good 
 fresh salt-feesh. 
 
 I lef de leetle school behin' for workin' purty 
 
 quick, 
 Ba gosh! I t'ink I tas' it yet firs' tarn I git sea- 
 sick; 
 It feel to me dat tarn jes' lak I'm turnin' 
 
 inside out, 
 But affer w'ile I 'm feelin' good nowhere but 
 on de boat. 
 
34 RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 I 'member well de tarn mon pere an' me bot' 
 
 git upset, 
 Tree hour on de water an', ba gosh! I'm feelin' 
 wet, 
 Mon pere is tell ma moder wen she cry "Das 
 
 handy ting, 
 Don' got no bodder now, ma chere, for wasM 
 de foot dis spring." 
 
 Beeg barkenschooner come wan tarn from place 
 
 call Liverpool, 
 De Capitan is say he t'ink de French mus' all be 
 fool, 
 'Cause feller, can't spik moche Anglais, was 
 
 haul de polp-wood log, 
 Want empty pork bar'l half full boeuf mak 
 hen-coop for hees dog. 
 
 I'm work lak noder feller do, an' mebbe leetle 
 
 more, 
 Some tam I'm on de banker an' some tarn feesh 
 off shore; 
 In spring trap for de lobster, kech mackerel on 
 
 de fall", 
 An' mos' de winter set on house an' do not'ing 
 at all. 
 
 Wen I am comin' twenty-one, das be some tam 
 
 ago, 
 I'm beeg an' strong, an' feelin' scare of not'ing 
 I dunno; 
 De res' is all git marier, I'm only wan is lef, 
 An' mon pere say its tam for me do somet'ing 
 for mese'f. 
 
 I hear some nice new ves' was buil' on place call 
 
 Port Med way, 
 An' write de man for fin' in' out how moche I got 
 to pay; 
 De price is low, so all ma frien' is feelin' 
 
 interes', 
 An' nine, ten men go in wit' me tak' quarter 
 on dat ves'. 
 
 I tak two men an' go mese'f for see dey rig her 
 
 right, 
 Tak in de baJlas', buy some grub, an' start for 
 
 home nex' night. 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 35 
 
 Dey he'p us git her onderway, den buil'er 
 
 shake ma nan', 
 He's pleasan' feller, an' I t'ink, ba gosh! I lak 
 
 dat man. 
 
 In Halifax we stop wan day for gittin' some 
 
 supply, 
 An' wat you call de charter for load produce 
 bimeby, 
 Git leetle freight for Arichat, an' steerin' 
 
 Eas'-Sou -Wes', 
 We soon git home, w'ere all is t'ink I got de 
 firs' class ves'. 
 
 I'm marry w'ile I'm home dat tarn, so I was 
 
 toF ma wife 
 I tak heem up to Halifax for see de city life. 
 Nex' day we start git dem produce on place 
 
 call Summersi de, 
 An' sail dat ves' troo Gut Cansore agin de win' 
 an' tide. 
 
 We load de ves' wit' pomme de terre, den finish 
 
 up wit' oat; 
 Buy feefty turkey gobbler, an' wan pair nanny 
 goat; 
 Wit' load lak dat we fin' de ves' good sea-boat, 
 
 bet your life, 
 So in we run to Arichat for gittin' ma new 
 wife. 
 
 In Halifax I t'ink, ba gosh! I board ma wife 
 
 ashore, 
 So tak heem to de Queen Hotel, an' knock upon 
 de door; 
 Wen man come out on top de door I ax heem 
 
 putty quick, 
 "How moche you charge board ma new wife 
 at your Board House wan wick?" 
 
 He look at me wit' pleasan' smile, but answer 
 
 mak me sick, 
 "We charge all guess at dis hotel ten dollar ev'ry 
 wick." 
 I tell heem "Tank you for de guess," an' nex' 
 
 I ring de bell 
 At noder Board House, wat dey call de Hali- 
 fax Hotel. 
 
36 RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 Wen man come out he smile de sam, but answer 
 
 mak me scare; 
 Kip ma new wife only one wick is cos' twelve 
 dollar dere. 
 An' so we go from wan board house to mebbe 
 
 six or tree, 
 An' ev'rywan is ax too moche for suit ma wife 
 
 At las' he say "I go aboard an' board aboard de 
 
 ves'," 
 So af'er w'ile I say "All right, mebbe das be de 
 bes';" 
 He stay aboard and board aboard, an' swear 
 
 hese'f to me, 
 He's better board aboard de ves' dan Board 
 House on Citie. 
 
 Wan tarn some Yankee man is come for mak de 
 
 trip wit' me; 
 He hear we got nice lookin' coast an' lakgo 'long 
 for see; 
 But all de tarn we have (Je fog, I never see so 
 
 t'ick, 
 Mus' cut some new hole ev'ry tarn you're 
 goin' try for spik. 
 
 We meet wan pink, das be de ves' got bow on bot' 
 
 de en', 
 An' I was spik en Francais wit' de Capitan, ma 
 frien'. 
 Den Yankee man is holler out: "Wat's nam de 
 
 ship you got?" 
 An' back de answer come at once lak trumpet 
 "Arichat." 
 
 Den Yankee man is ax' heem eef he know de 
 
 course or not, 
 An' only answer come agin is sam' word 
 "Arichat!" 
 He ax who buil' de ship lakdat ,an' eef she can 
 
 be bought, 
 An' answer's comin', not so loud, but still 
 she's "Arichat." 
 
 Den Yankee man is try once more "How many 
 
 crew you got?" 
 It mak heem mad wen all he hear is sam word 
 
 "Arichat." 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 37 
 
 He ax me if I t'ink dat man know nam of place 
 
 is hot, 
 An' troo de fog we hear once more, lak echo, 
 
 "Arichat." 
 
 Dat trip, ba gosh! I los' mese'f for mebbe wick 
 
 or so, 
 Can't see ma han' behin' ma back an' don' know 
 how to go; 
 But after while de wedder clear, an' wen de 
 
 fog is gone, 
 I fin' mese'f 'bout ten, twelve mile dis side of 
 Newfoun'john. 
 
 De tarn I mak de Boston trip de win' she blow 
 
 wan gale, 
 Mon Oncle Paul is tryin hard for git reef on de 
 sail; 
 She blow so moche de men git scare' an' t'ink 
 
 dere is no hope, 
 Nex' t'ing we know whip go bot' spar right 
 out de new bol'rope. 
 
 We dreef until de win' go down den rig de 
 
 jury mas', 
 An' feex tarpaulin for de sail, but don' go very 
 fas'; 
 Jes' den I see tree-masted brig upon de 
 
 starboar' tack, 
 Astannin' in before de win' wit' ev'ryti'ing 
 aback. 
 
 I hail dat feller "Ship Ahoy! I hope you feel firs' 
 
 rate, 
 I'm Pierre LeBlanc from Arichat, an' jes' come 
 off de State, 
 I los' bot' spar, an' jurymas' is only t'ingl got, 
 How long it tak' wit' rig lak dat git me to 
 Arichat?" 
 
 Dat feller tak de beeg fog-horn an' holler loud he 
 
 can, 
 'Bout longitude and latitude, w'at I don' 
 un'erstan'. 
 I holler back "For t'ing lak dat no use at all I 
 
 got, 
 I want to [know how long it tak git me to 
 Arichat." 
 
38 RANDOM RHYMES 
 
 I tol' de mate, mon Oncle Paul, "If sun is settin' 
 
 clear, 
 I git ma course an' know all right de way we got 
 to steer; 
 'Cause 'fore I'm startin' sail de ship I'm smart 
 
 enuff for larn, 
 In Arichat de sun is set right back ma fader's 
 barn." 
 
 So, sure enough, de sky is clear, an' beautiful 
 
 sunset, 
 Nobody mak de straighter course dan we was 
 mak, I bet, 
 Strike Arichat fair as a die, an' never broke 
 
 spun-yarn, 
 'Cause dere ba gosh! de sun is set right back 
 ma fader's barn. 
 
 But I can't tol' you ev'ryt'ing in leetle tarn we 
 
 got, 
 So bes' t'ing sure is veesit me ma home on 
 Arhhat. 
 Come bring de wife an' famileefor jes' so long 
 
 you please, 
 An' tin' dem feller on Kebbec ain't only hole 
 on cheese. 
 
RANDOM RHYMES 39 
 
 JSeat 3t! 
 
 HEN you've hung a record up, 
 
 Beat it! 
 Think not you have reached the top, 
 
 Beat it! 
 Strain your sinews, set your will, 
 Do a little better still, 
 From success claim added skill, 
 
 Beat it! 
 
 When the egg is in the dish, 
 
 Beat it! 
 Though it's not the task you wish, 
 
 Beat it! 
 Even though your soul be wroth, 
 Stir it like a Visigoth, 
 Whirl the thing and make it froth, 
 
 Beat it! 
 
 When wife takes the carpet up, 
 
 Beat it! 
 Sit not down to dine or sup, 
 
 Beat it! 
 Whip it hard for whip you must, 
 Raise a mighty cloud of dust, 
 Get that carpet clean or bust, 
 
 Beat it! 
 
 When you find a little drum, 
 
 Beat it! 
 Make a noise like Kingdom Come, 
 
 Beat it! 
 Set the air vibrating round, 
 Fill the very heavens with sound, 
 Strain the drumhead as you pound, 
 
 Beat it! 
 
 When the people cry "Encore," 
 
 Beat it! 
 Don't go on for evermore, 
 
 Beat it! 
 Rattle off your little spiel, 
 Don't forget just how they feel, 
 Finish. Halt! and— Right Wheel- 
 Beat it! 
 

 
 
 • 
 
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HUT BINDER 
 
 yracuse, N. y. 
 fockfon, Calif. 
 
 U.C. BERKELEY LIBRARIES 
 
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