LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
 IRVINE 
 
 ERTRAND 
 ACRES OF
 
 BY WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND 
 
 The Habitant, and Other French-Canadian 
 
 Poems. 
 
 The Voyageur, and Other Poems. 
 Johnnie Courteau, and Other Poems. 
 The Great Fight. 
 Poetical Works, 
 
 G. P PUTNAM'S SONS
 
 The Poetical Works 
 of 
 
 Vv illiam Henry Drummond 
 
 With an Introduction by 
 Louis Frechette 
 
 And an Appreciation by 
 Neil Munro 
 
 G. P. Putnam's Sons 
 New York and London 
 Gbe Imfcfcerbocfter press
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 These poems, in a different arrangement and minus certain intro- 
 ductory material contained in the present volume, were published and 
 copyrighted under the following titles as below specified : The Habitant, 
 1897, by G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS; Johnnie Courteau, 1902, by WILLIAM 
 HENRY DRUMMOND; The Voyageur, 1905, by WILLIAM HENRY DRUM- 
 MONO ; The Great Fight, 1908. by MAY HARVEY DRUMMOND. 
 
 Fourth Impression 
 
 TTbe fmfcfcerbocfeer press, -Rew Sot*
 
 In Memory of William Henry Drummond 
 
 BY S. WEIR MITCHELL, M.D., LL.D. 
 
 "DEACE to his poet soul. Full well he knew 
 
 To sing for those who know not how to 
 praise 
 
 The woodsman's life, the farmer's patient toil, 
 The peaceful drama of laborious days. 
 
 He made his own the thoughts of simple men, 
 And with the touch that makes the world akin 
 A welcome guest of lonely cabin homes, 
 Found, too, no heart he could not enter in. 
 
 The toilworn doctor, women, children, men, 
 The humble heroes of the lumber drives, 
 Love, laugh, or weep along his peopled verse, 
 Blithe 'mid the pathos of their meagre lives. 
 
 While thus the poet-love interpreted, 
 He left us pictures no one may forget 
 Courteau, Batiste, Camille mon frre and best, 
 The good brave cure", he of Calumette.
 
 IN MEMORIAM 
 
 With nature as with man at home, he loved 
 The silent forest and the birches' flight 
 Down the white peril of the rapids' rush, 
 And the cold glamour of your Northern night. 
 
 Some mystery of genius haunts his page. 
 Some wonder secret of the poet's spell 
 Died with this master of the peasant thought. 
 Peace to your Northland singer, and farewell! 
 
 IV
 
 William Henry Drummond 
 
 name of Canada to me, as to many of 
 my race and age, has a romantic charm 
 that does not rise from any great historical as- 
 sociations, but survives from early youth, the 
 true period of natural magic, of unquestioning 
 illusions, when great men and great deeds have 
 less power to stir the imaginative faculty than 
 a hint, in some trumpery fiction, of wild, free 
 spaces of the unspoiled world. Not to pre- 
 natal glory does the memory of youth go back, 
 as Wordsworth thought; not to some Platonic 
 Eden where, in a previous incarnation we were 
 as angels in a sinless garden; but to the early, 
 primitive, and essentially mundane valleys, 
 plains, and hills that knew the toils and wander- 
 ings of our ancestors. It is the unfenced, un- 
 inhabited, and tractless areas our subliminal 
 memory recalls; the lonely morning forest, the 
 shouting cataract with no name, lakes undis- 
 covered, hunts perilously followed, evening fires 
 with their ashes deep below the mould of cen- 
 turies. No savage tribe with rude camp equi- 
 page set forth at dawn from the sheltering edge
 
 WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND 
 
 of pines, pursuing the windings of the river 
 through the mist, without, in some sensitive 
 heart, a pang of wonder and surmise which we in 
 our blood inherit. We have all come from the 
 tribes, trailing no clouds of glory, but still with 
 rags of zest in things adventurous, still capable 
 of a thrill at the thought of phantoms and of 
 dangers now no longer waiting us on our morning 
 march along the clean-swept pavements of a 
 thousand cities. 
 
 It was natural that Canada should evoke the 
 visionary romance of our youth in Scotland, 
 for yet the more favoured of us saw surviv- 
 ing scraps of that ancient unpossessed, uncul- 
 tivated, and untamed world whereof Scotland 
 and Canada alike were parts. In both lands 
 Nature wore much the same aspect; clothing 
 the bluffs with pine, the plains with northern 
 wild-flowers, spilling her streams down preci- 
 pices, filling the mountain crevices with snow or 
 mist, or the creeks and bays with the same 
 Atlantic Ocean. The very cold of Canada in 
 winter helped to render her familiar were our 
 happiest hours not those when the North wind 
 whistled and our lakes were ice? We knew that, 
 with the frost, to men came grandeurs of endur- 
 ance and reserves of zest incommunicable to the 
 offspring of the South. 
 
 Then, too, only a tiny period, as time goes in
 
 WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND 
 
 History less than two hundred years sepa- 
 rated us in our Highland life from many of the 
 customs of the Indian. We had still though 
 hung upon the wall the weapons of our fore- 
 fathers, and our fireside tales were yet of native 
 war-trails, forays, feuds, old passions, and alarms. 
 Little wonder that the Red River settlers from 
 Sutherlandshire found the aboriginals less strange 
 and inimical than the whites, or that the great 
 North- West should prove so hospitable to the 
 Gaelic winterers from Hudson's Bay! And one 
 last feature especially, of the New World ren- 
 dered it more alluring ta our youth our folk 
 were there ! They had blazed trails and builded 
 nourishing communities, they occupied the out- 
 most forts and knew the land from sea to sea; 
 they had given their names to the mightiest 
 rivers. 
 
 I have been through Canada at a time when 
 the early affections for things unseen and enter- 
 prises unexperienced are usually worn rather 
 thin; when the "radiance that was once so 
 bright" is replaced by 
 
 a sober colouring from an eye 
 
 That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality, 
 
 and though the views which I had previously 
 
 formed of the country and its life had necessarily 
 
 to undergo some process of readjustment, I am 
 
 vii
 
 WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND 
 
 happy to say it yet retains an infinite glamour 
 and romance. For the preservation of this fond 
 illusion as the realist may consider it I owe 
 much to the good fortune of knowing one man 
 who, after living nearly all his life in Canada, 
 had not discarded a single jot of his youthful 
 vision of her as a land magnificent and romantic ; 
 a man for whom the Redskin or the half-breed 
 still was a being not to be despised; for whom 
 the woodman, the trapper, and the pioneer were 
 glorified by all the antique circumstances of 
 their lives. The forest for William Henry 
 Drummond, as for me, had not relinquished any 
 of its early power to rouse half -awed expectancy, 
 to challenge, to allure. A Celt in every artery 
 of his being, it was not for him, as it never was 
 for me, by fauns and fairies that the thickets, 
 glades, or verges of the solitary lakes were in- 
 habited, but by the creatures of his boyish wor- 
 ship, by Leather-Stocking rather than the dryads. 
 No alien could doubt the persistance of ro- 
 mance in Canada, who saw the joy of Drummond 
 in it, his. delight in the very things that thrilled 
 in the books of youth ; in guides and voyageurs, in 
 camps, and portages, and canoes. He was him- 
 self a sportsman, and the woods and rivers, 
 therefore, had a fascination for another portion 
 of his nature, but rightly or wrongly, I fancy his 
 love of the wilds and his sense of kinship with
 
 WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND 
 
 the courageous, hardy, and enduring men he 
 found in sporting camps, were more often the 
 attraction of the Laurentian lakes and woods 
 than the fishing and the shooting to be got there. 
 It was not in Montreal where he practised 
 medicine that he found the inspiration of his 
 written work; poems associated with the life of 
 towns and cities are almost wholly absent from 
 his books, for his most impressionable years had 
 been spent elsewhere in Bord-a-Plouffe, on the 
 banks of the Riviere des Prairies, at Marbleton, 
 and Stornoway near Lake Megantic. From 
 Ireland, his direct heredity, he probably took no 
 more than a childish memory which gave a tinge 
 of Celtic pensiveness to his later years. He was 
 born near Mohill, County Leitrim, on April 13, 
 1854, and taken by his parents to the Dominion 
 while yet a boy. At Bord-a-Plouffe, where he 
 worked for a while in the telegraph service, he 
 was in a great centre of the lumber trade and 
 came for the first time in contact with the habit- 
 ant and the voyageur, a class of men for whom 
 his destiny was to be expositor. Their chansons 
 gave to his first literary essays the mould and 
 spirit which were to distinguish the greater part 
 of his poetical work. Later, he returned to study 
 in the High School, passing thence to McGill 
 College and on to Bishop's Medical College, 
 where he graduated in 1884. If academic prizes
 
 WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND 
 
 went for athletic feats, the Irishman would have 
 achieved the highest distinctions n his college 
 years, but in truth he won no medals save on the 
 college campus. Of such are good doctors made, 
 and often poets also ! His first medical appoint- 
 ment was that of House Surgeon at the Montreal 
 We:tern Hospita 1 , but at an early date he es- 
 tablished a physician's practice at Stornoway, 
 and later at Knowlton, where the mountains, 
 glens, woods, and lakes of Brome ministered 
 to every aspect of his love for nature. What 
 was the character of his duties there may be 
 gathered from his pictures of "The Canadian 
 Country Doctor" and " Ole Docteur Fiset." At 
 the end of four years, he returned to practise in 
 Montreal, and, in 1894, he married Miss May 
 Harvey, a lady with whom he became acquainted 
 while she and her father were on a visit from the 
 West Indies to the Dominion. 
 
 On his marriage with one who shared his own 
 romantic and poetic nature, and was, further, 
 dowered with the finest literary sensibilities, 
 Drummond's muse, aforetime somewhat shy and 
 fugitive, assumed more confidence and zeal. He 
 was already known in Canada and throughout 
 the United States as the author of "The Wreck 
 of the 'Julie Plante,'" a poem at no time greatly 
 valued by himself, but holding some essential 
 charm for the very class of men it pictured, no
 
 WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND 
 
 indecisive proof that a poet has a definite call. 
 He had written other poems in the dialect of the 
 French-Canadian habitant, hitherto the medium 
 of buffoonery in verse, but dignified by him to 
 graver purposes, and his own recitation of these 
 poems at occasional public gatherings earned for 
 him the name of "Poet of the Habitant" before 
 he had published a single book. 
 
 In an old house in Mountain Street, Montreal, 
 which had sheltered Jefferson Davis during the 
 first years after the American war, the poems 
 for Drummond's first book were written rather 
 for domestic entertainment than for the' world, 
 and at the solicitation of his wife and brothers, 
 the manuscript of "The Habitant" was sent to 
 the publishers of New York. Its merits were dis- 
 cerned by the Putnams, and the book, beautifully 
 illustrated by Frederick Simpson Coburn, whose 
 drawings marvellously caught the atmosphere 
 and spirit of the poems, immediately proved 
 successful. Drummond's place in the highest 
 rank of North American bards was assured. He 
 was hailed by the Poet Laureate of Canada, 
 Louis Frechette, as a new "pathfinder in the 
 land of song," and the credentials of such a 
 French-Canadian dispelled all fears that the 
 fidelity to the dialect, portraiture, and foibles 
 of the habitant might prove unpleasant to the 
 race and class delineated.
 
 WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND 
 
 In truth, the work had no fonder admiration 
 than with the habitants themselves. They found 
 in it not only a scrupulous representation of 
 their racial life, customs, and character, but the 
 attitude of a sympathetic and admiring friend. 
 A man of the tenderest sentiment, of the finest 
 tact, devoid of any cankering notion of superior- 
 ity, he never wrote a line but in affection, and 
 the humour, wit, and pathos of his verses carried 
 the irresistible conviction of a great and generous 
 soul. Of ridicule he was temperamentally in- 
 capable; on the human weaknesses of his charac- 
 ters he held his judgment in suspense; he gave 
 to Anglo-Saxon Canadians a new respect for their 
 French compatriots. Till then, French-Cana- 
 dian minstrelsy, for the outside world, was 
 represented so far as the habitant and the voya- 
 geur were concerned, by academic English ren- 
 derings of the old chansons; it was Drummond's 
 place to make the living habitant and voyageur 
 articulate in the patois which distinguished them, 
 and yet the naivete and the natural magic of the 
 old regime, of "A La Claire Fontaine" and "En 
 Roulant ma Boule" are reproduced, transfigured 
 strangely, in the language of the modern Canayen 
 of lumberers and peasants of to-day as Drum- 
 mond gave them voice in "Johnnie Courteau" 
 or "The Cure of Calumette." 
 
 Drummond's increasing reputation as a man
 
 WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND 
 
 of letters in no way affected the conscientious 
 discharge of his professional work; his practice 
 was not permitted to lose his unremitting at- 
 tention, however far his imagination might 
 wander or however briskly his pen might run in 
 his scanty leisure hours as a physician. Rich 
 and poor alike among his patients shared his 
 consideration, and it is related of him that on 
 one occasion, when two calls came simulta- 
 neously, one from a wealthy man, and the other 
 from a poor carter from whom a fee might 
 scarcely be expected, he chose to attend the 
 latter first, saying "The rich can get any num- 
 ber of doctors, but poor Pat has only me." 
 Mrs. Drummond, in the touching biographical 
 sketch she prefixes to his posthumous book The 
 Great Fight, says: 
 
 " Many of his patients declared that just to see 
 Doctor Drummond did them good, and grumbled 
 at the scarcity of his visits, but he, never dream- 
 ing that he had anything other than a prescrip- 
 tion to bestow, said: 'What 's the use of paying 
 professional visits to people for whom I can do 
 nothing more? I might just as well steal the 
 money out of their pockets.' On the other hand, 
 if the case was a serious one, it absorbed him, 
 and his attention to it was unremitting. At 
 such times he was with difficulty persuaded to 
 take proper rest or food, and would often leave
 
 WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND . 
 
 the dinner-table to search his book-shelves for 
 yet another authority on the disease he was 
 fighting ; then he would return with the book to 
 the table, and if it contained what he sought, 
 his plate would be pushed aside, and, in spite 
 of remonstrances from the rest of us, he was off 
 and away to his 'case' once more." 
 
 For several years he occupied the chair of 
 Medical Jurisprudence in his Alma Mater, in 
 which position he earned and kept the affection 
 and confidence of students and professors alike. 
 In 1901 appeared his second volume of poems, 
 Johnnie Courteau, and in the following year the 
 University of Toronto conferred on him the 
 degree of LL.D. He was subsequently elected 
 Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature of 
 England, and, later, one of the Royal Society 
 of Canada. These honours, with the degree of 
 D.C.L., of Bishop's College, Lennoxville, sat so 
 lightly on him that I confess I was unaware of 
 them till his death. In England he was simply 
 ' ' Habitant Drummond. ' ' 
 
 It was in the year last-mentioned that I met 
 him. He was paying his first visit to the mother- 
 land since he had left it as a child, and Scotland 
 was included in his itinerary. A man, it seemed 
 to me, less physically suggestive of a poet, it was 
 difficult to conceive. There was nothing fragile 
 about the build of William Henry Drummond
 
 - WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND 
 
 a massive yet athletic figure seemingly endowed 
 with the health and sinews of a wrestler, ema- 
 nating airs of active life and the open country; 
 the last man to suspect of literary vigils and of 
 enervating dalliance with the sisters of the sacred 
 well. And yet I would not for the world have 
 had him otherwise. The poetry of Canada, 
 particularly the poetry of the voyageur, should 
 not, in common decency, be made by delicate 
 and myopic men ; to such, indeed, the heart and 
 mystery of the child of nature, reticent and shy, 
 are rarely to be revealed. If I had had doubts 
 the usual journalistic doubts of the poet's like- 
 lihood to express the lowly life of Eastern Cana- 
 dian country places with authority, they would 
 have been immediately dispelled, for here was 
 unmistakably a plain man's man with whom it 
 would be joyous to go fishing. I put him to 
 the test with young folk at that period full of the 
 book romance of Canada, and apt to think the 
 most heroic qualities were requisite in every man 
 with his badge the Maple Leaf, and my visitor 
 came grandly up to the most fastidious standard. 
 For them he clinched the matter Canada was 
 genuine; the moose, and the wapiti, and the bear 
 were not mere beasts of myth like the dragons on 
 our coinage; the trapper was still in Ungava, and 
 the red canoe was yet upon the waters. To a 
 child his unsophistication and trustworthiness
 
 WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND 
 
 were instantly apparent; he was himself an un- 
 spoiled and eternal boy ! 
 
 I incline to think Drummond was never a 
 bookish man; at all events, like Wordsworth, he 
 was certainly no bookworm ; and his conversation 
 having rapturously dealt with three or four 
 modern poets who were at the time his deities, 
 tangentially escaped as soon as possible into 
 affairs of prose; of nature, dogs, and angling; 
 children, weather, travel, politics, and nation- 
 ality. He was plainly the kind of man to be 
 fascinated by any novel phase of the wild and 
 vagabondish in mankind ; his eye was ever alert 
 for racial idiosyncrasy. I went with him on a 
 flying visit to my native Highlands of Argyll; 
 the woods of Inveraray roused his admiration, 
 I see him still, the good physician Melampus, 
 walk under the hoary oaks of Easachosain, 
 but it was, I think, by gipsy pipers, shaggy, wild 
 rogues and ragged, that he was most permanently 
 impressed. 
 
 It was, however, especially to revisit Ireland 
 he had come across the sea, and after some days 
 in Scotland he set out for the scenes of childhood. 
 He got as far as Dublin, and here, as I have 
 written elsewhere, something came to him an 
 apprehension possibly of the fact that the actual 
 Ireland was not the Ireland of his warm imagina- 
 tion, that the "first, fine, careless rapture" of his
 
 WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND 
 
 childhood in Leitrim could never be recaptured 
 the saddest of discoveries for middle age. He 
 came back to Glasgow and went home to Canada 
 without accomplishing the purpose that had 
 brought him three thousand miles. 
 
 In the following year, I brought a long tour 
 in Canada to a termination with a week in the 
 society of Dr. and Mrs. Drummond, in the at- 
 tractive homes of his brothers George and 
 Thomas, on the lake-bespangled property of St. 
 Bruno, and later at the sporting camp of the 
 Laurentian Club on Lac La Peche. With the men 
 and women of that holiday community among 
 primeval woods, it was obvious that the poet was 
 the supreme inspiring friend and favourite, high 
 priest of revels, councillor and high grand con- 
 sultant upon all projects and contemplated 
 exploits. Not even the old "Commodore," 
 Director Parker, had more potent sway with the 
 Laurentians. The French-Canadian guides and 
 boatmen were on the most affectionate and even 
 playful terms with "the Doctor"; it was always 
 he who could most easily induce them to indulge 
 the expectant tenderfoot with song or dance. 
 It was then I found that though full of the 
 lore of the hunter, Drummond had long since 
 lost his love of the gun. He preferred to see 
 the creatures of the wood inviolate, and I shall 
 not readily forget his indignation and contempt 
 xvii
 
 WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND 
 
 for anything savouring of unsportsmanlike 
 slaughter. 
 
 In 1905, Drummond joined his brothers in the 
 exploitation of new mines at Cobalt, northern 
 Ontario, and, released from his medical work in 
 Montreal, he took up the active personal super- 
 intendence of operations which were by no means 
 uncongenial to him, since they were pursued in 
 a region new to him, of magnificent lakes and 
 forests. The fall of the year saw the publica- 
 tion of his last completed work, The Voyageur, 
 which met with the same great vogue and high 
 eulogium that attended its predecessors. It 
 looked as if in worldly prospects and in literary 
 fame the best of his life was still before him, 
 but in truth life smiled but to deceive, and 
 the end came as narrated in the memoir of his 
 widow : 
 
 " It had been his intention to spend Easter Day 
 of 1907 with us in Montreal, but hearing that 
 smallpox had broken out in the camp at Cobalt, 
 he hurried away a week earlier. The night of 
 his departure from Montreal he seemed possessed 
 by a strange and overwhelming reluctance to go. 
 ' I don't know why I hate to go away so much 
 this time/ he said, and I, thinking that his 
 health was not as good as usual, would have per- 
 suaded him to stay at home, but no, his duty lay 
 there with the sick of the little camp, and bidding
 
 WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND 
 
 us an unusually solemn good-bye, he left the 
 home he was never more to enter. It was just 
 a week from this time that he was stricken with 
 cerebral hemorrhage, and on the morning of 
 April 6th, after five unconscious days, passed 
 to the beyond." 
 
 Drummond's grave on the side of Mount 
 Royal has upon its stone a phrase of Moira 
 O'Neill's that has the secret of his wide appeal 
 and his endearment to the readers of the English- 
 speaking world : 
 
 Youth 's for an hour 
 Beauty 's a flower, 
 But love is the jewel that wins the world. 
 
 Among the poets of the British Empire, he 
 holds a place unique. The poetry and romance 
 of the North American continent have found, 
 in one form or another, expression in the works 
 of innumerable modern writers, struck, like him, 
 by the natural grandeur of their country, the 
 picturesque side of the struggle by which men 
 subdue it to the purposes of civilisation, and the 
 gallantry and devotion of humble lives. But 
 
 Fthe laureates of camp-fire, shack, and mine, too 
 generally indulge a strident, even brutal, note 
 which is never found in the poems of Drummond 
 as collected in the present definitive edition.
 
 WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND. 
 
 Melampus dwelt upon men: physician and sage, 
 
 He served them, loving them, healing them, sick or 
 
 maimed, 
 Or them that frenzied in some delirious rage 
 
 Outran the measure, his juice of the woods reclaimed. 
 He played on men, as his master, Phcebus, on strings 
 
 Melodious: as the God did he strive and check, 
 Through love exceeding a simple love of the things 
 
 That glide in the grasses and rubble of woody wreck. 
 
 NEIL MUNRO.
 
 Introduction 
 
 /~\N me demande, pour ce charmant volume, 
 un mot de preface en francais; le voici: 
 Quand, en 1863, je publiai mon premier recueil 
 de poesies e*crites au college, pour la plupart, 
 le grand poete americain Longfellow eut la 
 flatteuse bienveillance de m'appeler The path- 
 finder of a new land of song. 
 
 Avec mille fois plus de raison puis-je aujourd'- 
 hui passer le compliment a mon sympathique 
 confrere et ami, 1'auteur de ce livre; car, si 
 jamais quelqu'un, chez nous, a me"rite le titre de 
 pathfinder of a new land of song, c'est assurement 
 lui. 
 
 Non seulement il a de"couvert le champ, la 
 clairiere, la vallee fertile et encore inexploree; 
 il en a fait 1' exploitation a sa maniere, avec des 
 outils et des moyens de son invention; et, fier 
 'de sa conque'te, il laisse, de son e"paule robuste, 
 tomber a nos pieds le fruit de son travail, la 
 gerbe plantureuse aux ors vierges, a 1'arome 
 sauvage, aux savoureuses promesses, toute 
 fraiche et toute crissante dans sa rusticite* saine. 
 
 N'est-elle pas, en effet, d'une originalite" peu
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 commune, 1'idee de prendre un pauvre illettre", 
 de le presenter comme un type national a part, 
 de lui mettre aux levres une langue qui n'est 
 pas la sienne et qu'il ne connait qu' a demi; 
 d'en faire en meTne temps un personnage bon, 
 doux, aimable, honnete, intelligent et droit, 
 1'esprit en eveil, le cceur plein d'une poesie native 
 stimulant son patriotisme, jetant un rayon lumin- 
 eux dans son modeste interieur, bergant sesheures 
 reveuses de souvenirs lointains et melancoliques ? 
 
 Et cela sans que jamais, dans ce portrait d'un 
 nouveau genre, le plus subtil des critiques 
 puisse surprendre nulle part le coup de crayon 
 de la caricature! 
 
 Dans ses inimitables contes villageois, George 
 Sand a peint les pay sans du Berry sous des de- 
 hors trs interessants. Elle nous les montre 
 me'me d'un sentiment tres affine dans leur sim- 
 plicite naive et leur cordiale bonhomie. En 
 somme, elle en fait des natures, des tempera- 
 ments, quelque chose de typique, en me'me 
 temps qu' harmonieux de teinte et de forme. 
 
 Mais George Sand faisait parler ses person- 
 nages dans la langue du pays, dans la langue de 
 la chaumiere, dans leur propre dialecte, enfin. 
 Elle n'avait, pour ainsi dire, qu' a faire penetrer 
 le souffle de son talent sous le reseau de la 
 phrase, pour animer celle-ci d'un reflet de ly- 
 risme ou d'une vibration attendrie.
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 La tache abordee par M. Drummond presen- 
 tait un caractere beaucoup plus difficile. 
 
 Ici, le poete avait bien, il est vrai, le milieu a 
 saisir, place, droit en face de son objectif. II 
 e"tait assez familier avec ses acteurs pour les 
 grouper avantageusement, en menageant les 
 effets d'ombres et de lumiere. II est naturelle- 
 ment assez artiste pour ne rien negliger de ce 
 qui ajoute du pittoresque a la pose; surtout, 
 il connaissait a fond le type a reproduire, ses 
 moeurs, ses passions, ses sentiments, ses pen- 
 chants, ses superstitions et ses faiblesses. 
 
 Mais comment, sans tomber dans la charge 
 ou la bouffonnerie, faire parler syste'matique- 
 ment a ses personnages une langue e*trangere, 
 forcement incorrecte dans la bouche de quel- 
 qu'un qui 1'a apprise par oreille, sans savoir lire 
 meme dans sa propre langue? 
 
 La tentative etait hardie; mais on sait que 
 le succes a un faible pour les audacieux. 
 
 Dans son e"tude des Canadiens-francais, M. 
 Drummond a trouve" le moyen d'eviter un 
 e"cueil qui aurait semble" inevitable pour tout 
 autre que pour lui. II est reste" vrai, sans tom- 
 ber dans la vulgarite", et piquant sans verser 
 dans le grotesque. 
 
 Qu'il mette en scene le gros fermier fier de 
 son bien ou de ses filles a marier, le vieux me"- 
 decin de campagne ne comptant plus ses e"tats
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 de service, le jeune amoureux qui rve au clair 
 de la lune, le vieillard qui repasse en sa me'- 
 moire la longue suite des jours reVolus, le 
 conteur de legendes, 1'aventurier des "pays 
 d'en haut," et merne le Canadien exile le 
 Canadien errant, comrne dit la chanson popu- 
 laire qui croit toujours entendre resonner a 
 son oreille le vague tintement des cloches de 
 son village; que le recit soit plaisant ou pathe- 
 tique, jamais la note ne sonne faux, jamais la 
 bizarrerie ne degenere en puerilite burlesque. 
 
 C'est la un tour de force comme il ne s'en fait 
 pas souvent, et c'est avec enthousiasme que je 
 tends la main a M. Drummond pour le feliciter 
 de 1'avon accompli. 
 
 II a veritablement fait la oeuvre de poete et 
 d'artiste. 
 
 J'ajouterai qu'il a fait aussi ceuvre de bon 
 citoyen. Car le jour sous lequel il presente mes 
 compatriotes illettres ne peut manquer de valoir 
 a ceux-ci et partant a tout le reste de la na- 
 tionalite un accroissement desirable dans res- 
 time de nos compatriotes de langue anglaise, ' 
 qui n'ont pas e"te* a meme de les e*tudier d'aussi 
 pres que M. Drummond. 
 
 La peinture qu'en fait le poete est on ne peut 
 plus sympathique et juste; et de semblables 
 precedes ne peuvent que cimenter 1'union de 
 cceur et n'esprit qui doit exister entre toutes
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 les fractions qui composent la grande famille 
 canadienne appelee a vivre et a prospe*rer sous 
 la meme loi et le mme drapeau. 
 
 En lisant les vers de M. Drummond, le Ca- 
 nadien-franc.ais sent que c'est la 1'expression 
 d'une ame amie ; et, a ce compte, je dois & 
 1'auteur plus que mes bravos, je lui dois en 
 me' me temps un chaleureux merci. 
 
 Louis FRECHETTE. 
 MONTREAL, 13 octobre 1897.
 
 Preface 
 
 TN presenting to the public "The Habitant, 
 and other French-Canadian Poems," I feel 
 that my friends who are already, more or less, 
 familiar with the work, understand that I have 
 not written the verses as examples of a dialect, 
 or with any thought of ridicule. 
 
 Having lived, practically, all my life, side by 
 side with the French-Canadian people, I have 
 grown to admire and love them, and I have felt 
 that while many of the English-speaking public 
 know perhaps as well as myself the French- 
 Canadian of the cities, yet they have had little 
 opportunity of becoming acquainted with the 
 habitant, therefore I have endeavored to paint 
 a few types, and in doing this, it has seemed 
 to me that I could best attain the object in 
 view by having my friends tell their own tales 
 in their own way, as they would relate them 
 to English-speaking auditors not conversant 
 with the French tongue. 
 
 My good friend, Dr. Louis Frechette, Poet 
 Laureate, has, as a French-Canadian, kindly 
 written an "Introductory" in his own graceful
 
 PREFACE 
 
 language, and I have to thank him above all 
 for his recognition of the spirit which has actu- 
 ated me in writing "dialect" verse. 
 
 WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND. 
 MONTREAL, September, 1897.
 
 Contents 
 
 PAGB 
 
 THE HABITANT i 
 
 THE WRECK OF THE " JULIE PLANTE" A LEGEND 
 
 OF LAC ST. PIERRE 7 
 
 LE VIEUX TEMPS ...... 9 
 
 "DE PAPINEAU GUN" AN INCIDENT OF THE 
 
 CANADIAN REBELLION OF 1837 . . .18 
 
 How BATEESE CAME HOME 21 
 
 DE NICE LEETLE CANADIENNE ... 30 
 
 TOLEON DOR A TALE OF THE SAINT MAURICE . 32 
 
 DE NOTAIRE PUBLIQUE 39 
 
 A CANADIAN VOYAGEUR'S ACCOUNT OF THE NILE 
 
 EXPEDITION "MAXIME LABELLE" . . 42 
 
 MEMORIES ....... 49 
 
 PHIL-O-RUM JUNEAU A STORY OF THE "CHASSE 
 
 GALLERIE" ....... 52 
 
 DE BELL OF SAINT MICHEL 63 
 
 PELANG ........ 65 
 
 MON CHOUAL "CASTOR" 70 
 
 OLE TAM ON BORD-A PLOUFFE .... 75 
 
 THE GRAND SEIGNEUR 80 
 
 M'SIEU SMIT, THE ADVENTURES OF AN ENGLISH- 
 MAN IN THE CANADIAN WOODS . 82
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 WHEN ALBANI SANG . ... . . .91 
 
 DE CAMPONDE "CHEVALGRIS" .... 98 
 
 DE STOVE PIPE HOLE 104 
 
 "DE SNOWBIRD" . . . . . .no 
 
 THE HABITANT'S JUBILEE ODE . . . .113 
 
 OLE DOCTEUR FISET . . . . . .118 
 
 JOHNNIE COURTEAU . . . . . .122 
 
 THE CORDUROY ROAD . . . . .125 
 
 THE CURE OF CALUMETTE . . . . 131 
 
 THE OYSTER SCHOONER 137 
 
 MY LEETLE CABANE 140 
 
 BATEESE THE LUCKY MAN 144 
 
 THE HILL OF ST. SEBASTIEN. .. . . .145 
 
 MARIE LOUISE . . . . . . . 149 
 
 THE OLD HOUSE AND THE NEW . . . .153 
 
 THE CANADIAN COUNTRY DOCTOR . . .158 
 MON FRERE CAMILLE . . . . .162 
 
 THE HABITANT'S SUMMER . . . . .168 
 
 LITTLE LAC GRENIER (GREN-YAY) . . .174 
 
 THE WINDIGO 177 
 
 NATIONAL POLICY 187 
 
 AUTUMN DAYS . . . . . . .190 
 
 MADELEINE VERCHERES . . . . .192 
 
 THE "ROSE DELIMA" ...... 199 
 
 LITTLE MOUSE 210 
 
 STRATHCONA'S HORSE . . . . . .212 
 
 JOHNNIE'S FIRST MOOSE . . . . .214 
 
 THE OLD PINE TREE 218 
 
 XXX
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 LITTLE BATEESE ...... 220 
 
 DONAL' CAMPBELL ...... 222 
 
 THE DUBLIN FUSILIER ' 225 
 
 DREAMS 229 
 
 'THE OLD SEXTON . . . . . .231 
 
 CHILD THOUGHTS WRITTEN TO COMMEMORATE 
 THE ANNIVERSARY OF MY BROTHER TOM'S 
 
 BIRTHDAY 235 
 
 BATEESE AND HIS LITTLE DECOYS . . . 237 
 
 PHIL-O-RUM'S CANOE 242 
 
 THE LOG JAM 246 
 
 THE CANADIAN MAGPIE 252 
 
 THE RED CANOE 255 
 
 Two HUNDRED YEARS AGO .... 256 
 
 THE VOYAGEUR 259 
 
 BRUNO THE HUNTER ...... 262 
 
 PRIDE 265 
 
 DlEUDONNE (GOD-GlVEN) 272 
 
 -THE DEVIL 273 
 
 THE FAMILY LARAMIE 281 
 
 YANKEE FAMILIES ...... 282 
 
 THE LAST PORTAGE 286 
 
 GETTING ON 288 
 
 PIONEERS 292 
 
 NATURAL PHILOSOPHY 297 
 
 CHAMPLAIN 300 
 
 PRO PATRIA 305 
 
 GETTING STOUT 310 
 
 DOCTOR HILAIRE 313 
 
 xxxi
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 BARBOTTE (BULL-POUT) 320 
 
 THE ROSSIGNOL . . . . . . .322 
 
 MEB-BE ........ 325 
 
 SNUBBING (TYING- UP) THE RAFT . . . .325 
 
 A RAINY DAY IN CAMP 332 
 
 JOSETTE 335 
 
 JOE BOUCHER 337 
 
 CHARMETTE 340 
 
 LAC Souci 342 
 
 POIRIER'S ROOSTER 345 
 
 DOMINIQUE ....... 349 
 
 HOME 352 
 
 CANADIAN FOREVER 355 
 
 TWINS 357 
 
 KEEP OUT OF THE WEEDS ..... 359 
 
 THE HOLY ISLAND ...... 362 
 
 THE RIVIERE DES PRAIRIES 367 
 
 THE WIND THAT LIFTS THE FOG . . . .372 
 
 THE Fox HUNT . 374 
 
 THE GREAT FIGHT 379 
 
 VICTORIA SQUARE AN IDYLL .... 384 
 
 MARRIAGE ........ 387 
 
 WE 'RE IRISH YET ...... 392 
 
 CHIBOUGAMOU ....... 394 
 
 THE FIRST ROBIN 401 
 
 BLOOM A SONG OF COBALT. .... 406 
 
 THE BOY FROM CALABOGIE ..... 407 
 
 THE CALCITE VEIN A TALE OF COBALT . . 409 
 
 xxxii
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PIERRE LEBLANC 413 
 
 SILVER LAKE CAMP 418 
 
 THE TALE OF A COCKTAIL 419 
 
 THE LAND WE LIVE IN AND THE LAND WE LEFT . 422 
 
 DEER-HUNTING (BY AN EXPERT) . . . 423 
 "HE ONLY WORE A SHAMROCK" . . . .425 
 
 THE GODBOUT 427 
 
 DOONSIDE 430 
 
 THE SPANISH BIRD 43 1 
 
 BOULE 432 
 
 CAUDA MORRHUAE 437 
 
 XXX111
 
 Remember when these tales you read 
 Of rude but honest "Canayen," 
 That Joliet, La Verandrye, 
 La Salle, Marquette, and Hennepin 
 Were all true "Canayen" themselves 
 And in their veins the same red stream: 
 The conquering blood of Normandie 
 Flowed strong, and gave America 
 Coureurs de bois and voyageurs 
 'Whose trail extends from sea to sea!
 
 The Habitant * 
 
 T~^\E place I get born, me, is up on de reever 
 Near foot of de rapide dat 's call Cheval 
 
 Blanc 
 Beeg mountain behin' it, so high you can't 
 
 climb it 
 
 An' whole place she 's mebbe two honder 
 arpent. 
 
 De fader of me, he was habitant farmer, 
 
 Ma gran' fader too, an' hees fader also, 
 Dey don't mak' no monee, but dat is n't 
 
 fonny 
 
 For it 's not easy get ev'ryt'ing, you mus' 
 know 
 
 All de sam' dere is somet'ing dey got ev'ry- 
 
 boddy, 
 Dat 's plaintee good healt', wat de monee 
 
 can't geev, 
 So I 'm workin' away dere, an' happy for stay 
 
 dere 
 On farm by de reever, so long I was leev.
 
 THE HABITANT 
 
 O ! dat was de place w'en de spring tarn she 's 
 
 comin', 
 
 W'en snow go away, an' de sky is all blue 
 W'en ice lef ' de water, an' sun is get hotter 
 An' back on de medder is sing de gou- 
 glou 
 
 W'en small sheep is firs' comin' out on de 
 
 pasture, 
 
 Deir nice leetle tail stickin' up on deir back, 
 Dey ronne wit' deir moder, an' play wit' each 
 
 oder 
 
 An' jomp all de tarn jus' de sam' dey was 
 crack 
 
 An' ole cow also, she 's glad winter is over, 
 So she kick herse'f up, an' start off on de 
 
 race 
 Wit' de two-year-ole heifer, dat 's purty soon 
 
 lef her, 
 W'y ev'ryt'ing 's crazee all over de place! 
 
 An' down on de reever de wiT duck is quackin' 
 Along by de shore leetle san' piper ronne 
 
 De bullfrog he 's gr-rompin' an' dore is jompin' 
 Dey all got deir own way for mak' it de 
 fonne. 

 
 THE HABITANT 
 
 But spring 's in beeg hurry, an' don't stay long 
 
 wit' us 
 An' firs' t'ing we know, she go off till nex' 
 
 year,' 
 Den bee commence hummin', for summer is 
 
 comin' 
 An' purty soon corn 's gettin' ripe on de ear. 
 
 Dat 's very nice tarn for wake up on de 
 morning 
 
 An' lissen de rossignol sing ev'ry place, 
 Feel sout' win' a-blowin', see clover a-growin', 
 
 An' all de worl' laughin' itself on de face. 
 
 Mos' ev'ry day raf it is pass on de rapide 
 De voyageurs singin' some ole chanson 
 'Bout girl down de reever too bad dey mus' 
 
 leave her, 
 But comin' back soon' wit' beaucoup d'argent. 
 
 An' den w'en de fall an' de winter come roun 
 
 us 
 
 An' bird of de summer is all fly away, 
 W'en mebbe she 's snowin' an' nort' win' is 
 
 blowin' 
 
 An' night is mos' t'ree tam so long as de 
 day. 
 
 3
 
 THE HABITANT 
 
 You t'ink it was bodder de habitant farmer? 
 
 Not at all he is happy an' feel satisfy, 
 An' cole may las' good w'ile, so long as de wood- 
 pile 
 
 Is ready for burn on de stove by an' bye. 
 
 Wen I got plaintee hay put away on de stable 
 So de sheep an' de cow, dey got no chance to 
 
 freeze, 
 An' de hen all togedder I don't min' de 
 
 wedder 
 
 De nort' win' may blow jus' so moche as she 
 please. 
 
 An' some cole winter night how I wish you can 
 
 see us, 
 Wen I smoke on de pipe, an' de ole woman 
 
 sew 
 By de stove of T'ree Reever ma wife's fader 
 
 geev her 
 On day we get marry, dat 's long tarn ago 
 
 De boy an' de girl, dey was readhi' it's lesson, 
 
 De cat on de corner she 's bite heem de pup, 
 Ole "Carleau" he's snorin' an' beeg stove is 
 
 roarin' 
 
 So loud dat I 'm scare purty soon she bus' up. 
 4
 
 THE HABITANT 
 
 Philomene dat 's de oldes' is sit on de winder 
 An' kip jus' so quiet lak wan leetle mouse, 
 
 She say de more finer moon never was shiner 
 Very fonny, for moon is n't dat side de house. 
 
 But purty soon den, we hear foot on de outside, 
 An' some wan is place it hees han' on de latch, 
 
 Dat 's Isidore Goulay, las' fall on de Brule* 
 He 's tak' it firs' prize on de grand ploughin* 
 match. 
 
 Ha! ha! Philomene! dat was smart trick you 
 
 play us 
 Come help de young feller tak' snow from 
 
 hees neck, 
 
 Dere 's not'ing for hinder you come off de winder 
 Wen moon you was look for is come, I 
 expec' 
 
 Isidore, he is tole us de news on de parish 
 
 'Bout hees Lajeunesse Colt travel two forty, 
 
 sure, 
 'Bout Jeremie Choquette, come back from 
 
 Woonsocket 
 
 An' t'ree new leetle twin on Madame Vail 
 lancour'. 
 
 But nine o'clock strike, an' de chil'ren is sleepy, 
 Mese'f an' ole woman can't stay up no more 
 5
 
 THE HABITANT 
 
 So alone by de fire 'cos dey say dey ain't tire 
 We lef Philomene an' de young Isidore. 
 
 I s'pose dey be talkin' beeg lot on de kitchen 
 'Bout all de nice moon dey was see on de sky, 
 
 For Philomene 's takin' long tarn get awaken 
 Nex' day, she 's so sleepy on bote of de eye. 
 
 Dat 's wan of dem ting's, ev'ry tarn on de 
 
 fashion, 
 
 An' 'bout nices' t'ing dat was never be seen. 
 Got not'ing for say me I spark it sam' v. ay 
 
 me 
 Wen I go see de moder ma girl Philomene. 
 
 We leev very quiet 'way back on de contree 
 Don't put on sam style lak de big village, 
 W'en we don't get de monee you t'ink dat is 
 
 fonny 
 
 An' mak' plaintee sport on de Bottes Sau- 
 vages. 
 
 But I tole you dat 's true I don't go on de 
 
 city 
 If you geev de fine house an' beaucoup 
 
 d' argent 
 
 I rader be stay me, an' spen' de las' day me 
 On farm by de rapide dat 's call Cheval 
 Blanc. 
 
 6
 
 THE WRECK OF THE " JULIE PLANTE" 
 
 The Wreck of the "Julie Plants" A 
 Legend of Lac St. Pierre 
 
 N wan dark night on Lac St. Pierre, 
 
 De win' she blow, blow, blow, 
 An' de crew of de wood scow "Julie Plante" 
 
 Got scar't an' run below 
 For de win' she blow lak hurricane 
 
 Bimeby she blow some more, 
 An' de scow bus' up on Lac St. Pierre 
 Wan arpent from de shore. 
 
 De captinne walk on de fronte deck, 
 
 An' walk de hin' deck too 
 He call de crew from up de hole 
 
 He call de cook also. 
 De cook she 's name was Rosie, 
 
 She come from Montreal, 
 Was chambre maid on lumber barge, 
 
 On de Grande Lachine Canal. 
 
 De win' she blow from nor'-eas'-wes,' 
 
 De sout' win' she blow too, 
 W'en Rosie cry "Mon cher captinne, 
 
 Mon cher, w'at I shall do?" 
 Den de Captinne t'row de big ankerre, 
 
 But still the scow she dreef, 
 De crew he can't pass on de shore, 
 
 Becos' he los' hees skeef. 
 7
 
 THE WRECK OF THE " JULIE PLANTE '' 
 
 De night was dark lak' wan black cat, 
 
 De wave run high an' fas', 
 Wen de captinne tak' de Rosie girl 
 
 An' tie her to de mas'. 
 Den he also tak' de life preserve, 
 
 An' jomp off on de lak', 
 An' say, "Good-bye, ma Rosie dear, 
 
 I go drown for your sak'. " 
 
 Nex' morning very early 
 
 'Bout ha'f-pas' two t'ree four 
 De captinne scow an' de poor Rosie 
 
 Was corpses on de shore, 
 Fqr de win' she blow lak' hurricane 
 
 Bimeby she blow some more, 
 An' de scow bus' up on Lac St. Pierre, 
 
 Wan arpent from de shore. 
 
 MORAL 
 
 Now all good wood scow sailor man 
 
 Tak' warning by dat storm 
 An' go an' marry some nice French girl 
 
 An' leev on wan beeg farm. 
 De win' can blow lak' hurricane 
 
 An' s'pose she blow some more, 
 You can't get drown on Lac St. Pierre 
 
 So long you stay on shore. 
 8
 
 LE VIEUX TEMPS 
 
 Le Vieux Temps 
 
 ici, mon cher ami, an' sit down by 
 me so 
 
 An' I will tole you story of old tarn long ago 
 Wen ev'ryt'ing is happy w'en all de bird is 
 
 sing 
 
 An' me! I 'm young an' strong lak moose an' 
 not afraid no t'ing. 
 
 I close my eye jus' so, an' see de place w'ere, 
 
 I am born 
 
 I close my ear an' lissen to musique of de horn,, 
 Dat 's horn ma dear ole moder blow an only 
 
 t'ing she play 
 Is "viens done vite Napoleon 'peche tot 
 
 pour votre souper. " 
 
 An' w'en he 's hear dat nice musique ma 
 
 ieetle dog "Carleau" 
 Is place hees tail upon hees back an' den 
 
 he 's let heem go 
 He 's jomp on fence he 's swimmin' crik 
 
 he 's ronne two forty gait, 
 He say "dat 's somet'ing good for eat Car- 
 
 leau mus' not be late. "
 
 LE VIEUX TEMPS 
 
 O dem was pleasure day for sure, dem day of 
 
 long ago 
 Wen I was play wit' all de boy, an' all de girl 
 
 also; 
 An' many tarn w'en I 'm alone an' t'ink of day 
 
 gone by 
 An' pull latire an' spark de girl, I cry upon my 
 
 eye. 
 
 Ma fader an' ma moder too, got nice, nice 
 
 familee, 
 Dat 's ten garcon an' t'orteen girl, was mak' it 
 
 twenty, t'ree 
 But fonny t'ing de Gouvernement don't geev 
 
 de firs' prize den 
 Lak w'at dey say dey geev it now, for only 
 
 wan douzaine. 
 
 De English peep dat only got wan familee 
 
 small size 
 Mus' be feel glad dat tarn dere is no honder 
 
 acre prize 
 For fader of twelve chil'ren dey know dat 
 
 mus' be so, 
 De Canayens would boss Kebeck mebbe 
 
 Ontario. 
 
 10
 
 LE VIEUX TEMPS 
 
 But dat is not de story dat I was gone tole 
 
 you 
 About de fun we use to have w'en we leev a 
 
 chez nous 
 We 're never lonesome on dat house, for many 
 
 cavalier 
 Come at our place mos' every night especially 
 
 Sun-day. 
 
 But tarn I 'member bes' is w'en I 'm twenty 
 
 wan year me 
 An' so for mak' some pleasurement we geev 
 
 wan large soiree 
 De whole paroisse she be invite de Cure" he 's 
 
 come too 
 Wit plaintee peep from 'noder place dat 's 
 
 more I can tole you. 
 
 De night she 's cole an' freeze also, chemin 
 
 she 's fill wit snow 
 An' on de chimley lak phantome, de win' is 
 
 mak' it blow 
 But boy an' girl come all de sam an' pass on 
 
 grande parloir 
 For warm itself on beeg box stove, was mak' 
 
 on Trois Rivieres
 
 LE VIEUX TEMPS 
 
 An' w'en Bonhomme Latour commence for 
 
 tune up hees fidelle 
 It mak' us all feel very glad 1' enfant! he play 
 
 so well, 
 Musique suppose to be firs' class, I offen hear, 
 
 for sure 
 But mos' bes' man, beat all de res', is ole 
 
 Bateese Latour 
 
 An' w'en Bateese play Irish jeeg, he 's learn 
 
 on Mattawa 
 Dat tarn he 's head boss cook Shaintee den. 
 
 leetle Joe Leblanc 
 Tak' hole de beeg Marie Juneau an' dance 
 
 upon de floor 
 Till Marie say "Excuse to me, I cannot dance 
 
 no more." 
 
 An' den de Cure 's mak' de speech ole Cure 
 
 Ladouceur! 
 He say de girl was spark de boy too much on 
 
 some cornerre 
 An' so he 's tole Bateese play up ole fashion 
 
 reel a quatre 
 An' every body she mus' dance, dey can't get 
 
 off on dat. 
 
 12
 
 \ 
 
 LE VIEUX TEMPS 
 
 Away she go hooraw! hooraw! plus fort 
 
 Bateese, mon vieux 
 Camille Bisson, please watch your girl dat 's 
 
 bes' t'ing you can do. 
 Pass on de right an' tak' your place Mamzelle 
 
 Des Trois Maisons 
 You 're s'pose for dance on Paul Laberge, not 
 
 Telesphore Gagnon. 
 
 Mon oncle Al-fred, he spik lak' dat 'cos he is 
 
 boss de floor, 
 An' so we do our possibill an' den commence 
 
 encore. 
 Dem crowd of boy an' girl I 'm sure keep up 
 
 until nex' day 
 If ole Bateese don't stop heseff, he come so 
 
 fatigue*. 
 
 An' affer dat, we eat some t'ing, tak' leetle 
 
 drink also 
 An' de Cure", he 's tole story of many year 
 
 ago 
 Wen Iroquois sauvage she 's keel de Canayens 
 
 an' steal deir hair, 
 An' say dat 's only for Bon Dievt, we don't be 
 
 here he don't be dere. 
 13
 
 LE VIEUX TEMPS 
 
 But dat was mak' de girl feel scare so all de 
 
 cavalier 
 Was ax hees girl go home right off, an' place 
 
 her on de sleigh, 
 An' w'en dey start, de Cure say, "Bonsoir et 
 
 bon voyage 
 Menagez-vous tak' care for you prenez 
 
 garde pour les sauvages. " 
 
 An' den I go meseff also, an' tak' ma belle 
 
 Elmire 
 She 's nicer girl on whole Comte, an' jus' got 
 
 eighteen year 
 Black hair black eye, an' chick rosee dat 's lak 
 
 wan fameuse on de fall 
 But do n't spik much not of dat kin', I can't 
 
 say she love me at all. 
 
 Ma girl she 's fader beeg farmeur leev 'noder 
 
 side St. Flore 
 Got five-six honder acre mebbe a leetle 
 
 more 
 Nice sugar bush une belle maison de bes' I 
 
 never see 
 So w'en I go for spark Elmire, I don't be mak' 
 
 de foolish me 
 
 14
 
 LE VIEUX TEMPS 
 
 Elmire ! she 's pass t 'ree year on school Ste. 
 
 Anne de la Perade 
 An' w'en she 's tak' de firs' class prize, dat 's 
 
 mak' de ole man glad; 
 He say "Ba gosh ma girl can wash can keep 
 
 de kitchen clean 
 Den change her dress mak' politesse before 
 
 God save de Queen. " 
 
 Dey 's many way for spark de girl, an' you 
 
 know dat of course, 
 Some way dey might be better way, an' some 
 
 dey might be worse 
 But I lak' sit some cole night wit' my girl on 
 
 ole burleau 
 Wit' lot of hay keep our foot warm an' 
 
 plaintee buffalo 
 
 Dat 's geev good chances get acquaint an' if 
 
 burleau upset 
 An' t'row you out upon de snow dat 's better 
 
 chances yet 
 An' if you help de girl go home, if horse he 
 
 ronne away 
 De girl she 's not much use at all don't geev 
 
 you nice baiser! 
 
 15
 
 LE VIEUX TEMPS 
 
 Dat 's very well for fun ma frien', but w'en 
 
 you spark for keep 
 She 's not sam t'ing an' mak' you feel so scare 
 
 lak' leetle sheep 
 Some tarn you get de fever some tarn you 're 
 
 lak snowball 
 An' all de tarn you ack lak' fou can't spik no 
 
 t'ing at all. 
 
 Wall ! dat 's de way I feel meseff, wit Elmire 
 on burleau, 
 
 Jus' lak' small dog try ketch hees tail roun* 
 roun' ma head she go 
 
 But bimeby I come more brave an' tak' El- 
 mire she's han' 
 
 "Laisse-moi tranquille" Elmire she say "You 
 mus' be crazy man." 
 
 "Yass yass I say" mebbe you t'ink I 'm wan 
 
 beeg loup garou, 
 Dat 's forty t'ousand 'noder girl, I lef dem all 
 
 for you, 
 I s'pose you know Polique Gauthier your frien' 
 
 on St. Cesaire 
 I ax her marry me nex' wick she tak' me I 
 
 don't care." 
 
 16
 
 LE VIEUX TEMPS 
 
 fia gosh; Elmire she don't lak' dat it mak* 
 
 her feel so mad 
 She commence cry, say '"Poleon you treat me 
 
 very bad 
 I don't lak' see you t'row you'seff upon Polique 
 
 Gauthier, 
 So if you say you love me sure we mak' de 
 
 mariee. " 
 
 Oh it was fine tarn affer dat Castor I t'ink he 
 
 know, 
 We 're not too busy for get home he go so 
 
 nice an' slow, 
 He 's only upset t 'ree four tarn an' jus' 
 
 about daylight 
 We pass upon de ole man's place an' every 
 
 t'ing 's all right. 
 
 Wall! we leev happy on de farm for nearly 
 
 fifty year, 
 Till wan day on de summer tarn she die ma 
 
 belle Elmire 
 I feel so lonesome lef behirf' I tink 't was 
 
 bes' mebbe 
 Dat w'en le Bon Dieu tak* ma famme he 
 
 should not forget me. 
 
 3 17
 
 " DE PAPINEAU GUN " 
 
 But dat is hees biz-nesse ma frien' I know 
 
 dat 's all right dere 
 I '11 wait till he call "Toleon" den I will be 
 
 prepare 
 An' w'en he fin' me ready, for mak' de longue 
 
 voyage 
 
 He guide me t'roo de wood hesef upon ma las' 
 portage. 
 
 11 De Papineau Gun' 1 An Incident of the 
 Canadian Rebellion of 1837 
 
 "DON jour, M'sieu' you want to know 
 
 'Bout dat ole gun w'at good she 's for? 
 W'y ! Jean Bateese Bruneau mon pere, 
 Fight wit' dat gun on Pap'neau War! 
 
 Long tarn since den you say C'est vrai, 
 An' me too young for 'member well, 
 
 But how de patriot fight an' die, 
 I off en hear de ole folk tell. 
 
 De English don't #ck square dat tarn, 
 Don't geev de habitants no show, 
 
 So 'long come Wolfred Nelson 
 Wit' Louis Joseph Papineau. 
 18
 
 " DE PAPINEAU GUN " 
 
 An' swear de peep mus' have deir right. 
 
 Wolfred he 's write Victoriaw, 
 But she 's no good, so den de war 
 
 Commence among de habitants. 
 
 Mon pere he leev to Grande Brule . 
 
 So smarter man you never see, 
 Was alway on de grande hooraw! 
 
 Plaintee w'at you call "Esprit!" 
 
 An' w'en dey form wan compagnie 
 All dress wit' tuque an' ceinture sash 
 
 Ma fader tak' hees gun wit' heem 
 An' marche away to Saint Eustache,. 
 
 Were many patriots was camp 
 
 Wit' brave Chenier, deir Capitaine,. 
 
 W'en 'long come English Generale, 
 An' more two t'ousan' sojer man. 
 
 De patriot dey go on church 
 An' feex her up deir possibill; 
 
 Dey fight deir bes', but soon fin' out 
 "Canon de bois" no good for kill. 
 
 An' den de church she come on fire, 
 An' burn almos' down to de groun'* 
 
 So w'at you t'ink our man can do 
 Wit' all dem English armee roun'? 
 19
 
 " DE PAPINEAU GUN I: 
 
 Toleon, hees sojer never fight 
 
 More brave as dem poor habitants, 
 
 Chenier, he try for broke de rank 
 Chenier come dead immediatement, 
 
 He fall near w'ere de cross is stan' 
 
 Upon de ole church cimitiere, 
 Wit' Jean Poulin an' Laframboise 
 
 An' plaintee more young feller dere. 
 
 De gun dey rattle lak' tonnere 
 
 Jus' bang, bang, bang! dat 's way she go, 
 An' wan by wan de brave man 's fall 
 
 An' red blood 's cover all de snow 
 
 Ma fader shoot so long he can 
 
 An' den he 's load hees gun some more, 
 Jomp on de ice behin' de church 
 
 An' pass heem on de 'noder shore. 
 
 Wall ! he reach home fore very long 
 
 An' keep perdu for many day, 
 Till ev'ry t'ing she come tranquille, 
 
 An' sojer man all gone away. 
 
 An' affer dat we get our right, 
 De Canayens don't fight no more, 
 
 Ma fader's never shoot dat gun, 
 But place her up above de door. 
 20
 
 HOW BATEESE CAME HOME 
 
 An' Papineau, an' Nelson too 
 
 Dey 're gone long tarn, but we are free, 
 Le Bon Dieu have 'em 'way up dere. 
 
 Salut, Wolfred! Salut, Louis! 
 
 How Bateese Came Home 
 
 \\T 'EN I was young boy on de farm, dat 's 
 
 twenty year ago 
 I have wan frien' he 's leev near me, call Jean 
 
 Bateese Trudeau 
 An offen w'en we are alone, we lak for spik 
 
 about 
 De tarn w'en we was come beeg man, wit* 
 
 moustache on our mout'. 
 
 Bateese is get it on hees head, he 's too moche 
 
 educate 
 For mak' de habitant farmerre he better' go 
 
 on State 
 An' so wan summer evening we 're drivin' 
 
 home de cow 
 He 's tole me all de whole beez-nesse jus' lak 
 
 you hear me now. 
 
 21
 
 HOW BATEESE CAME HOME 
 
 4 'Wat 's use mak' foolish on de farm? dere 's 
 
 no good chances lef ' 
 An' all de tarn you be poor man you know 
 
 dat 's true you'se'f ; 
 We never get no fun at all don't never go on 
 
 spree 
 Onless we pass on 'noder place, an' mak' it 
 
 some monee . 
 
 41 1 go on Les Etats Unis, I go dere right 
 
 away 
 An' den mebbe on ten-twelve year, I be riche 
 
 man some day, 
 An' w'en I mak' de large fortune, I come back 
 
 I s'pose 
 Wit' Yankee famme from off de State, an' 
 
 monee on my clothes. 
 
 "I tole you somet'ing else also mon cher 
 Napoleon 
 
 I get de grande majorite", for go on parlia- 
 ment 
 
 Den buil' fine house on borde 1'eau near w'ere 
 de church is stand 
 
 More finer dan de Presbytere, w'en I am come 
 riche man!" 
 
 22
 
 HOW BATEESE CAME HOME 
 
 I say "For w'at you spik lak dat? you must 
 
 be gone crazee 
 Dere 's plaintee feller on de State, more smarter 
 
 dan you be, 
 Beside she 's not so healtee place, an' if you 
 
 mak' 1'argent, 
 You spen' it jus' lak Yankee man, an' not lak 
 
 habitant. 
 
 "For me Bateese! I tole you dis: I'm very 
 
 satisfy 
 De bes' man don't leev too long tarn, some 
 
 day Ba Gosh! he die 
 An' s'pose you got good trotter horse, an' nice 
 
 famme Canadienne 
 Wit' plaintee on de house for eat W'at more 
 
 you want ma frien'?" 
 
 But Bateese have it all mak' up, I can't stop 
 
 him at all 
 He 's buy de seconde classe tiquette, for go on 
 
 Central Fall 
 An' wit' two-t'ree some more de boy, w'at 
 
 t'ink de sam' he do 
 Pass on de train de very nex' wick, was lef 
 
 Riviere du Loup.
 
 HOW BATEESE CAME HOME 
 
 Wall ! mebbe fifteen year or more, since Bateese 
 
 go away 
 I fin' mesef Riviere du Loup, wan cole, cole 
 
 winter day 
 De quick express she come hooraw! but stop 
 
 de soon she can 
 An' beeg swell feller jomp off car, dat 's boss 
 
 by nigger man. 
 
 He 's dressim on de premiere classe, an' got 
 
 new suit of clothes 
 Wit' long moustache dat 's stickim out, de 
 
 'noder side hees nose 
 Fine gol' watch chain nice portmanteau an' 
 
 long, long overcoat 
 Wit' beaver hat dat 's Yankee style an' red 
 
 tie on hees t'roat 
 
 I say "Hello Bateese! Hello! Comment ga va 
 
 mon vieux?" 
 He say "Excuse to me, ma Men' I t'ink I don't 
 
 know you." 
 I say, "She 's very curis t'ing, you are Bateese 
 
 Trudeau, 
 Was raise on jus' sam' place wit' me, dat 's 
 
 fifteen year ago?" 
 
 24
 
 HOW BATEESE CAME HOME 
 
 He say, "Oh yass dat 's sure enough I know 
 
 you now firs' rate, 
 But I forget mos' all ma French since I go on 
 
 de State. 
 Dere 's 'noder t'ing kip on your head, ma frien' 
 
 dey mus' be tole 
 Ma name 's Bateese Trudeau no more, but 
 
 John B. Waterhole!" 
 
 "Hole on de water's" fonny name for man 
 
 w'at 's call Trudeau 
 Ma frien's dey all was spik lak dat, an' I am 
 
 tole heem so 
 He say "Trudeau an' Waterhole she's jus r 
 
 about de sam' 
 An' if you go for leev on State, you must have 
 
 Yankee nam'." 
 
 Den we invite heem come wit' us, "Hotel du: 
 
 Canada w" 
 Were he was treat mos' e'ry tam, but can't 
 
 tak' w'isky blanc, 
 He say dat 's leetle strong for man jus' come 
 
 off Central Fall 
 A.n' "tabac Canayen" bedamme! he won't 
 
 smoke dat at all ! 
 25
 
 HOW BATEESE CAME HOME 
 
 But fancy drink lak "Ceilings John" de way 
 
 he put it down 
 Was long tarn since I don't see dat I t'ink 
 
 he 's goin' drown! 
 An' fine cigar cos' five cent each, an' mak' on 
 
 Trois-Rivieres 
 L 'enfant! he smoke beeg pile of dem for 
 
 monee he don't care! 
 
 T s'pose meseff it 's t'ree o'clock w'en we are 
 
 t'roo dat night 
 Bateese, hees fader come for heem, an' tak' 
 
 heem home all right 
 De ole man say Bateese spik French, w'en he 
 
 is place on bed 
 An' say bad word : but w'en he wake forget 
 
 it on hees head 
 
 Wall ! all de winter w'en we have soiree dat 's 
 
 grande affaire 
 Bateese Trudeau, dit Waterhole, he be de boss 
 
 man dere 
 You bet he have beeg tarn, but w'en de spring 
 
 is come encore 
 He 's buy de premiere classe tiquette for go on 
 
 State some more. 
 
 26
 
 HOW BATEESE CAME HOME 
 
 You 'member w'en de hard tarn come on Les 
 
 Etats Unis 
 An' plaintee Canayens go back for stay deir 
 
 own contree? 
 Wall! jus' about dat tarn again I go Riviere 
 
 du Loup 
 For sole me two t'ree load of hay mak* leetle 
 
 visit too 
 
 De freight train she is jus' arrive only ten 
 
 hour delay 
 She 's never carry passengaire dat 's w'at dey 
 
 always say 
 I see poor man on char caboose he 's got 
 
 heem small valise 
 Begosh! I nearly tak' de fit, It is it is 
 
 Bateese! 
 
 He know me very well dis tarn, an' say "Bon 
 
 jour, mon vieux 
 I hope you know Bateese Trudeau was educate 
 
 wit' you 
 I 'm jus' come off de State to see ma familee 
 
 encore 
 I bus' mesef on Central Fall I don't go dere 
 
 no more." 
 
 27
 
 HOW BATEESE CAME HOME 
 
 "I got no monee not at all I 'm broke it up 
 
 for sure 
 Dat 's locky t'ing, Napoleon, de brakeman 
 
 Joe Latour 
 He 's cousin of wan frien' of me call Camille 
 
 Valiquette, 
 Conductor too 's good Canayen don't ax me 
 
 no tiquette. " 
 
 I tak' Bateese wit' me once more "Hotel du 
 
 Canadaw" 
 An' he was glad for get de chance drink some 
 
 good w'isky blanc! 
 Dat 's warm heem up, an den he eat mos' 
 
 ev'ryt'ing he see, 
 I watch de w'ole beez-nesse mese'f Monjee! 
 
 he was hongree! 
 
 Madame Charette wat 's kip de place get very 
 
 much excite 
 For see de many pork an' bean Bateese put out 
 
 of sight 
 Du pain dore potate pie an' 'noder t'ing be 
 
 dere 
 But w'en Bateese is get heem t'roo dey go I 
 
 don't know w'ere. 
 
 28
 
 HOW BATEESE CAME HOME 
 
 It don't tak' long for tole de news "Bateese 
 come off de State" 
 
 An' purty soon we have beeg crowd, lak vil- 
 lage she 's en fete 
 
 Bonhomme Maxime Trudeau hese'f , he 's 
 comin' wit' de pries' 
 
 An' pass' heem on de "Room for eat" w'ere 
 he is see Bateese. 
 
 Den ev'rybody feel it glad, for watch de em- 
 
 brasser 
 An' bimeby de ole man spik "Bateese you here 
 
 for stay?" 
 Bateese he 's cry lak beeg bebe, "B& j'eux 
 
 rester ici. 
 An if I never see de State, I 'm sure I don't 
 
 care me." 
 
 "Correc'," Maxime is say right off, "I place 
 
 you on de farm 
 For help your poor ole fader, won't do you too 
 
 moche harm 
 Please come wit' me on Magasin, I feex you 
 
 up ba oui 
 
 An' den you 're ready for go home an' see de 
 familee. " 
 
 29
 
 DE NICE LEETLE CANADIENNE 
 
 Wall! w'en de ole man an' Bateese come off de 
 Magasin 
 
 Bateese is los' hees Yankee clothes he 's dress 
 lak Canayen 
 
 Wit' bottes sauvages ceinture fleche* an' 
 coat wit' capuchon 
 
 An' spik Frangais au naturel, de sam' as habi- 
 tant. 
 
 I see Bateese de oder day, he 's work hees 
 fader's place 
 
 I t'ink mese'f he 's satisfy I see dat on hees face 
 
 He say "I got no use for State, mon cher Na- 
 poleon 
 
 Kebeck she 's good enough for me Hooraw 
 pour Canadaw. " 
 
 De Nice Leetle Canadienne 
 
 can pass on de worl' w'erever you lak, 
 Tak' de steamboat for go Angleterre, 
 Tak' car on de State, an' den you come back, 
 
 An' go all de place, I don't care 
 Ma frien' dat 's a fack, I know you will say, 
 
 W'en you come on dis contree again, 
 Dere 's no girl can touch, w'at we see ev'ry day, 
 De nice leetle Canadienne. 
 30
 
 DE NICE LEETLE CANADIENNE 
 
 Don't matter how poor dat girl she may be, 
 Her dress is so neat an' so clean, 
 
 Mos' ev'rywan t'ink it was mak' on Paree 
 An' she wear it, wall! jus' lak de Queen. 
 
 Den come for fin' out she is mak' it herse'f, 
 For she ain't got moche monee for spen', 
 
 But all de sam' tarn, she was never get lef, 
 Dat nice leetle Canadienne. 
 
 Wen "un vrai Canayen" is mak' it marine, 
 
 You t'ink he go leev on beeg flat 
 An' bodder hese'f all de tarn, night an' day, 
 
 Wit' housemaid, an' cook, an' all dat? 
 Not moche, ma dear frien', he tak' de maison, 
 
 Cos' only nine dollar or ten, 
 Were he leev lak blood rooster, an' save de 
 1'argent, 
 
 Wit' hees nice leetle Canadienne. 
 
 I marry ma famme w'en I 'm jus' twenty year, 
 
 An* now we got fine familee, 
 Dat skip roun' de place lak leetle small deer, 
 
 No smarter crowd you never see 
 An' I t'ink as I watch dem all chasm' about, 
 
 Four boy an' six girl, she mak' ten, 
 Dat 's help mebbe kip it, de stock from run out, 
 Of de nice leetle Canadienne.
 
 'POLEON DORE 
 
 O she 's quick an' she 's smart, an' got plaintee 
 
 heart, 
 
 If you know correc' way go about, 
 An' if you don't know, she soon tole you so 
 
 Den tak' de firs' chance an' get out ; 
 But if she love you, I spik it for true, 
 She will mak' it more beautiful den, 
 An' sun on de sky can't shine lak de eye 
 Of dat nice leetle Canadienne. 
 
 'Poleon Dore. A Tale of the Saint 
 Maurice 
 
 have never hear de story of de young 
 Napoleon Dore? 
 Los' hees life upon de reever w'en de lumber 
 
 drive go down? 
 Were de rapide roar lak tonder, dat 's de place 
 
 he 's goin' onder, 
 
 W'en he 's try save Paul Desjardins, 'Poleon 
 hese'f is drown. 
 
 All de winter on de Shaintee, tarn she 's good 
 
 and work she 's plaintee, 
 But we 're not feel very sorry, w'en de sun 
 is warm hees face, 
 32
 
 TOLEON DORE 
 
 Wen de mooshrat an' de beaver, tak* some 
 
 leetle swim on reever, 
 
 An' de sout' win' scare de snowbird, so she 
 fly some col'er place. 
 
 Den de spring is set in steady, an' we get de 
 
 log all ready, 
 Workin' hard all day an' night too, on de 
 
 water mos' de tarn, 
 An' de skeeter w 'en dey fin' us, come so quickly 
 
 nearly blin' us, 
 
 Biz biz biz biz all aroun' us till we feel 
 lak sacredam. 
 
 All de sam' we 're hooraw feller, from de top 
 
 of house to cellar, 
 Ev'ry boy he 's feel so happy, w'en he 's 
 
 goin' right away, 
 See hees fader an' hees moder, see hees sister 
 
 an' hees broder, 
 
 An' de girl he spark las' summer, if she 's 
 not get mariee. 
 
 Wall we start heem out wan morning, an' de 
 
 pilot geev us warning, 
 
 "Wen you come on Rapide Cuisse, ma 
 frien', keep raf she 's head on shore. 
 * 33
 
 'POLEON DORE 
 
 If you struck beeg rock on middle, w'ere le 
 
 diable is play hees fiddle, 
 Dat 's de tarn you pass on some place, you 
 don't never pass before." 
 
 But we '11 not t'ink moche of danger, for de 
 
 rapide she 's no stranger 
 Many tarn we 're runnin' t'roo it, on de fall 
 
 an' on de spring, 
 On mos' ev'ry kin' of wedder dat le Bon Dieu 
 
 scrape togedder, 
 
 An' we '11 never drown noboddy, an' we '11 
 never bus' somet 'ing. 
 
 Dere was Telesphore Montbriand, Paul Desjar- 
 
 dins, Louis Guyon, 
 Bill McKeever, Aleck Gauthier, an' hees 
 
 cousin Jean Bateese, 
 'Poleon Dore, Aime Beaulieu, wit' some more 
 
 man I can't tole you, 
 
 Dat was mak' it bes' gang never run upon de 
 St. Maurice. 
 
 Dis is jus' de tarn I wish me, I could spik de 
 
 good English me 
 
 For tole you of de pleasurement we get upon 
 de spring, 
 
 34
 
 'POLEON DORE 
 
 Wen de win' she 's all a sleepin', an' de raf 
 
 she go a sweepin' 
 
 Down de reever on some morning, w'ile le 
 rossignol is sing. 
 
 Ev'ryt'ing so nice an' quiet on de shore as we 
 
 pass by it, 
 All de tree got fine new spring suit, ev'ry 
 
 wan she 's dress on green 
 Wy it mak' us all more younger, an' we don't 
 
 feel any hunger, 
 
 Till de cook say '"Raw for breakfas'," den 
 we smell de pork an' bean. 
 
 Some folk say she 's bad for leever, but for man 
 
 work hard on reever, 
 Dat 's de bes' t'ing I can tole you, dat was 
 
 never yet be seen, 
 Course dere 's oder t'ing ah tak' me, fancy dish 
 
 also I lak me, 
 
 But w'en I want somet'ing solid, please pass 
 me de pork an' bean. 
 
 All dis tarn de raf' she 's goin' lak steamboat 
 
 was got us to win' 
 
 All we do is keep de channel, an' dat 's easy 
 workin' dere, 
 
 35
 
 'POLEON DORE 
 
 So we sing some song an' chorus, for de good 
 
 tarn dat 's before us, 
 
 Wen de w'ole beez-nesse she 's finish, an* 
 we come on Trois Rivieres. 
 
 But bad luck is sometam fetch us, for beeg 
 
 strong win' come an' ketch us, 
 Jus' so soon we struck de rapide jus' so 
 
 soon we see de smoke, 
 An' before we spik some prayer for ourse'f 
 
 dat 's fightin' dere, 
 
 Roun' we come upon de beeg rock, an' it 's 
 den de raf she broke. 
 
 Dat was tarn poor Paul Desjardins, from de 
 
 parish of St. Germain, 
 He was long way on de fronte side, so he 's 
 
 fallin' overboar' 
 Could n't swim at all de man say, but dat 's 
 
 more ma frien', I can say, 
 Any how he 's look lak drownin', so we '11 
 t'row him two t'ree oar. 
 
 Dat 's 'bout all de help our man do, dat 's 
 
 'bout ev'ryt'ing we can do, 
 As de crib we 're hangin' onto balance on 
 de rock itse'f, 
 
 36
 
 TOLEON DORE 
 
 Till de young Napoleon Dore", heem I start for 
 
 tole de story, 
 
 Holler out, "Mon Dieu, I don't lak see poor 
 Paul go drown hese'f. " 
 
 So he 's mak' beeg jomp on water, jus' de sam 
 
 you see some otter 
 An' he 's pass on place w'ere Paul is tryin' 
 
 hard for keep afloat, 
 Den we see Napoleon ketch heem, try hees 
 
 possibill for fetch heem 
 
 But de current she 's more stronger, an' de 
 eddy get dem bote. 
 
 O Mon Dieu! for see dem two man, mak' me 
 
 feel it cry lak woman, 
 Roun' an' roun' upon de eddy, quickly dem 
 
 poor feller go, 
 Can't tole wan man from de oder, an' we '11 
 
 know dem bote lak broder, 
 But de fight she soon is finish Paul an* 
 'Poleon go below. 
 
 Yass, an' all de tam we stay dere, only t'ing 
 
 we do is pray dere, 
 
 For de soul poor drownin' feller, dat 's enough 
 mak' us feel mad, 
 37
 
 TOLEON DORE 
 
 Torteen voyageurs, all brave man, glad get any 
 
 chances save man, 
 
 But we don't see no good chances, can't do 
 not'ing, dat 's too bad. 
 
 Wall ! at las' de crib she 's come way off de 
 
 rock, an' den on some way, 
 By an' by de w'ole gang 's passin' on safe 
 
 place below de Cuisse, 
 Ev'ryboddy's heart she 's breakin', w'en dey 
 
 see poor Paul he 's taken 
 Wit' de young Napoleon Dore, bes' boy on 
 de St. Maurice! 
 
 An' day affer, Bill McKeever fin' de bote man 
 
 on de reever, 
 Wit' deir arm aroun' each oder, mebbe pass 
 
 above dat way 
 So we bury dem as we fin* dem, w'ere de pine 
 
 tree wave behin' dem 
 
 An de Grande Montagne he 's lookin' down 
 on Marcheterre Bay. 
 
 You can't hear no church bell ring dere, but le 
 
 rossignol is sing dere, 
 
 An' w'ere ole red cross she 's stannin', mebbe 
 some good ange gardien, 
 38
 
 DE NOTAIRE PUBLIQUE 
 
 Watch de place w'ere bote man sleepin', keep 
 
 de reever grass from creepin' 
 On de grave of 'Poleon Dore, an' of poor 
 Paul Desjardins. 
 
 De Notaire Publique 
 
 TV/T'SIEU Paul Joulin, de Notaire Publique 
 
 Is come I s'pose seexty year hees life 
 
 An' de mos' riche man on Sainte Angelique 
 
 Wen he feel very sorry he got no wife 
 
 So he 's paint heem hees buggy, lak new, by 
 
 Gor! 
 Put flower on hees coat, mak' hese'f more 
 
 gay 
 
 Arrange on hees head fine chapeau castor 
 An' drive on de house of de Boulanger. 
 
 For de Boulanger 's got heem une jolie fille 
 
 Mos' bes' lookin' girl on paroisse dey say 
 An' all de young feller is lak Julie 
 
 An' plaintee is ax her for mak' marine, 
 But Julie she 's love only jus' wan man, 
 
 Hees nam' it is JeYemie Dandurand 
 An' he 's work for her sak' all de hard he can* 
 
 'Way off on de wood, up de Mattawa. 
 39
 
 DE NOTAIRE PUBLIQUE 
 
 M'Sieu Paul he spik him "Bonjour Mamzelle, 
 
 You lak promenade on de church wit' me? 
 Jus' wan leetle word an' we go ma belle 
 
 An' see heem de Cure toute suite, cherie ; 
 I dress you de very bes' style a la mode, 
 
 If you promise for be Madame Paul Joulin, 
 For I got me fine house on Bord a Plouffe road 
 
 Wit' mor'gage also on de Grande Moulin." 
 
 But Julie she say "Non, non, M'Sieu Paul, 
 
 Dat 's not correc' t'ing for poor Jeremie 
 For I love dat young feller lak not'ing at all, 
 
 An' I 'm very surprise you was not know me. 
 Jeremie w'en he 's geev me dat nice gol' ring, 
 
 Las' tarn he 's gone off on de Mattawa 
 Say he 's got 'noder wan w'en he 's come nex' 
 spring 
 
 Was mak' me for sure Madame Dandurand. 
 
 "I t'ank you de sam' M'Sieu Paul Joulin 
 
 I s'pose I mus' be de wife wan poor man 
 Wit' no chance at all for de Grande Moulin, 
 
 But leev all de tarn on some small cabane." 
 De Notaire Publique den is tak' hees hat, 
 
 For he t'ink sure enough dat hees dog she 's 
 
 dead; 
 Dere 's no use mak' love on de girl lak dat, 
 
 Wit' not'ing but young feller on de head. 
 40
 
 DE NOTAIRE PUBLIQUE 
 
 Julie she 's feel lonesome mos' all dat week, 
 
 Don't know w'at may happen she wait till 
 
 spring 
 Den t'ink de fine house of Notaire Publique 
 
 An' plaintee more too but love 's funny t'ing ! 
 So nex' tarn she see de Notaire again, 
 
 She laugh on her eye an' say "M'Sieu Paul 
 Please pass on de house, or you ketch de rain, 
 
 Dat 's very long tarn you don't come at all." 
 
 She 's geev him so soon he 's come on de door 
 
 Du vin de pays, an' some nice galettes, 
 She 's mak' dem herse'f only day before 
 
 An' he say "Bigosh! dat is fine girl yet." 
 So he 's try hees chances some more hooraw ! 
 
 Julie is not mak' so moche troub' dis tarn; 
 She 's forget de poor Jeremie Dandurand 
 
 An' tole de Notaire she will be hees famme. 
 
 Wen Jeremie come off de wood nex' spring, 
 
 An' fin' dat hees girl she was get mariee 
 Everybody 's expec' he will do somet'ing, 
 
 But he don't do not'ing at all, dey say; 
 For he 's got 'noder girl on Sainte Dorothe"e, 
 
 Dat he 's love long tarn, an' she don't say 
 
 "No," 
 So he 's forget too all about Julie 
 
 An' mak' de marine wit' hese'f also. 
 41
 
 THE NILE EXPEDITION 
 
 A Canadian Voyageur's Account of the 
 Nile Expedition " Maxime Labelle" 
 
 VTICTORIAW: she have beeg war, E-gyp 's 
 
 de nam' de place 
 An' neeger peep dat 's leev 'im dere, got very 
 
 black de face, 
 An' so she 's write Joseph Mercier, he 's stop 
 
 on Trois Rivieres 
 "Please come right off, an' bring wit' you t'ree 
 
 honder voyageurs. 
 
 "I got de plaintee sojer, me, beeg feller six foot 
 tall 
 
 Dat 's Englishman, ah' Scotch also, don't wear 
 no pant at all; 
 
 Of course, de Irishman 's de bes', raise all de 
 row he can, 
 
 But noboddy can pull batteau lak good Cana- 
 dian man. 
 
 "I geev you steady job for sure, an' w'en you 
 
 get 'im t'roo 
 I bring you back on Canadaw, don't cos' de 
 
 man un sou, 
 Dat 's firs'-class steamboat all de way Kebeck 
 
 an' Leeverpool, 
 An' if you don't be satisfy, you mus' be beeg, 
 
 beeg fool." 
 
 42 

 
 THE NILE EXPEDITION 
 
 We meet upon Hotel Dufresne, an' talk heem 
 till daylight, 
 
 An' Joe he 's treat so many tarn, we very near 
 get tight, 
 
 Den affer w'ile, we mak' our min' dat 's not 
 bad chance, an' so 
 
 Joseph Mercier he's telegraph, "Correc', Ma- 
 dame, we go." 
 
 So Joe arrange de whole beez-nesse wit' Queen 
 
 Victoriaw ; 
 Two dollar day work all de tarn dat 's purty 
 
 good 1'argent! 
 An' w'en we start on Trois Rivieres, for pass 
 
 on boar' de ship, 
 Our frien' dey all say, "Bon voyage," an' den 
 
 Hooraw ! E-gyp' ! 
 
 Dat beeg steamboat was plonge so moche, I 'm 
 
 'fraid she never stop 
 De Capitaine 's no use at all, can't kip her on 
 
 de top 
 An' so we all come very sick, jus' lak one leetle 
 
 pup, 
 An' ev'ry tarn de ship 's go down, de inside 
 
 she 's go up. 
 
 43
 
 THE NILE EXPEDITION 
 
 I 'm sorry spoke lak dis, ma frien', if you don't 
 
 t'ink it 's so, 
 Please ax Joseph Mercier hese'f, or Aleck De 
 
 Courteau, 
 Dat stay on bed mos' all de tarn, so sick dey 
 
 nearly die, 
 But lak' some great, beeg Yankee man, was 
 
 never tole de lie. 
 
 De gang she 's travel, travel, t'roo many strange 
 contree, 
 
 An' ev'ry place is got new nam', I don't re- 
 member, me, 
 
 We see some fonny t'ing, for sure, more fonny 
 I can tell, 
 
 But w'en we reach de Neel Riviere, dat 's feel 
 more naturel 
 
 So many fine, beeg sojer man, I never see be- 
 fore, 
 
 All dress heem on grand uniform, is wait upon 
 de shore, 
 
 Some black, some green, an' red also, cos* 
 honder dollar sure, 
 
 An' holler out, "She 's all right now, here come 
 de voyageurs!" 
 
 44
 
 THE NILE EXPEDITION 
 
 We see boss Generale also, he 's ride on beeg 
 
 chameau. 
 Dat 's w'at you call Ca-melle, I t'ink, I laugh 
 
 de way she go ! 
 Jomp up, jomp down, jomp ev'ry place, but 
 
 still de Generale 
 Seem satisfy for stay on top, dat fonny an-i- 
 
 mal. 
 
 He's holler out on Joe Mercier, "Comment 
 
 ca va Joseph 
 You lak for come right off wit' me, tak' leetle 
 
 ride yourseff?" 
 Joseph, he mak' de grand salut, an' tak' it off 
 
 hees hat, 
 "Merci, Mon Generale," he say, "I got no use 
 
 for dat." 
 
 Den affer we was drink somet'ing, an' sing 
 
 "Le Brigadier," 
 De sojer fellers get prepare, for mak' de em- 
 
 barquer, 
 An' everybody 's shout heem out, w'en we 
 
 tak' hole de boat 
 "Hooraw pour Queen Victoriaw!" an' also 
 
 "pour nous autres. " 
 45
 
 THE NILE EXPEDITION 
 
 Bigosh; I do hard work mese'f upon de Ot- 
 tawa, 
 
 De Gatineau an' St. Maurice, also de Mat- 
 tawa, 
 
 But I don't never work at all, I 'sure you dat 's 
 a fack 
 
 Until we strike de Neel Riviere, an' sapre 
 Catarack! 
 
 "Dis way, dat way, can't keep her straight," 
 
 "look out, Bateese, look out!" 
 "Now let her go" "arrete un peu, " dat 's 
 
 way de pilot shout, 
 "Don't wash de neeger girl on shore," an' 
 
 "prenez garde behin" 
 "Wat 's 'matter wit' dat rudder man? I t'ink 
 
 he's goin' blin'!" 
 
 Some tam of course, de boat 's all right, an' 
 carry us along 
 
 An' den again, we mak portage, w'en current 
 she 's too strong 
 
 On place lak' dat, we run good chance, for sun- 
 struck on de neck, 
 
 An' plaintee tam we wish ourseff was back on 
 ole Kebeck. 
 
 46
 
 THE NILE EXPEDITION 
 
 De seconde Catarack we pass, more beeger dan 
 de Soo, 
 
 She 's nearly t orty mile for sure, it would as- 
 tonish you, 
 
 Dat 's place t'ree Irishman get drown, wan day 
 we have beeg storm, 
 
 I s'pose.de Queen is feel lak cry, los' dat nice 
 uniform! 
 
 De night she 's very, very cole, an' hot upon 
 
 de day, 
 An' all de tarn, you feel jus' lak you 're goin' 
 
 melt away, 
 But never min' an' don't get scare, you mak' 
 
 it up all right, 
 An' twenty poun' you los' dat day, she 's 
 
 comin' back sam' night. 
 
 We got small bugle boy also, he 's mebbe stan' 
 
 four foot, 
 An' firs' t'ing ev'ry morning, sure, he mak' it 
 
 toot! toot! toot! 
 She 's nice enough upon de day, for hear de 
 
 bugle call, 
 But w'en she play before daylight, I don't lak 
 
 dat at all. 
 
 47
 
 THE NILE EXPEDITION 
 
 We mus* get up immediatement, dat lee tie 
 
 feller blow, 
 An' so we start heem off again, for pull de 
 
 beeg batteau, 
 De sojer man he 's nice, nice boy, an' help us 
 
 all he can, 
 An' geev heem chance, he 's mos' as good lak 
 
 some Canadian man. 
 
 Wall all de tarn, she go lak dat, was busy every 
 
 day, 
 Don't get moche chance for foolishness, don't 
 
 get no chance for play, 
 Dere 's plaintee danger all aroun', an' w'en 
 
 we 're comin' back 
 We got look out for run heem safe, dem sapre 
 
 Catarack. 
 
 But w'ere 's de war? I can't mak' out, don't 
 
 see no fight at all! 
 She 's not 'ing but une Grande Piqnique, dat 's 
 
 las' in all de fall ! 
 Mebbe de neeger King he 's scare, an' skip 
 
 anoder place, 
 An' pour la Reine Victoriaw! I never see de 
 
 face. 
 
 48
 
 MEMORIES 
 
 But dat 's not ma beez-nesse, ma frien', I 'm 
 
 ready pull batteau 
 So long she pay two dollar day, wit' pork an' 
 
 bean also ; 
 An' if she geev me steady job, for mak' some 
 
 more 1'argent, 
 I say, "Hooraw! for all de tarn, on Queen 
 
 Victoriaw!" 
 
 Memories 
 
 J 
 
 /~\ SPIRIT of the mountain that speaks to 
 
 ^^^ us to-night, 
 
 Your voice is sad, yet still recalls past visions 
 
 of delight, 
 When 'mid the grand old Laurentides, old 
 
 when the earth was new, 
 With flying feet we followed the moose and 
 
 caribou. 
 
 And backward rush sweet memories, like frag- 
 ments of a dream, 
 
 We hear the dip of paddle blades, the ripple of 
 the stream, 
 
 The mad, mad rush of frightened wings from 
 brake and covert start, 
 
 The breathing of the woodland, the throb of 
 nature's heart. 
 4 49
 
 MEMORIES 
 
 Once more beneath our eager feet the forest 
 
 carpet springs, 
 We march through gloomy valleys, where the 
 
 vesper sparrow sings. 
 The little minstrel heeds us not, nor stays his 
 
 plaintive song, 
 As with our brave coureurs de bois we swiftly 
 
 pass along. 
 
 Again o'er dark Wayagamack, in bark canoe 
 
 we glide, 
 And watch the shades of evening glance along 
 
 the mountain side. 
 Anon we hear resounding the wizard loon's 
 
 wild cry, 
 And mark the distant peak whereon the lin- 
 
 g'ring echoes die. 
 
 But Spirit of the Northland! let the winter 
 breezes blow, 
 
 And cover every giant crag with rifts of driving 
 snow. 
 
 Freeze every leaping torrent, bind all the crys- 
 tal lakes, 
 
 Tell us of fiercer pleasures when the Storm 
 King awakes. 
 
 50
 
 MEMORIES 
 
 And now the vision changes, the winds are 
 
 loud and shrill, 
 The falling flakes are shrouding the mountain 
 
 and the hill, 
 But safe within our snug cabane with comrades 
 
 gathered near, 
 We set the rafters ringing with "Roulant" 
 
 and "Brigadier." 
 
 Then after Pierre and Telesphore have danced 
 
 "Le Caribou," 
 Some hardy trapper tells a tale of the dreaded 
 
 Loup Garou, 
 Or phantom bark in moonlit heavens, with 
 
 prow turned to the East, 
 Bringing the Western voyageurs to join the 
 
 Christmas feast. 
 
 And while each backwoods troubadour is 
 
 greeted with huzza. 
 Slowly the homely incense of "tabac Cana- 
 
 yen" 
 Rises and sheds its perfume like flowers of 
 
 Araby, 
 O'er all the true-born loyal Enfants de la 
 
 Patrie.
 
 PHIL-0-RUM JUNEAU 
 
 And thus with song and story, with laugh and 
 
 jest and shout, 
 We heed not dropping mercury nor storms 
 
 that rage without, 
 But pile the huge logs higher till the chimney 
 
 roars with glee, 
 And banish spectral visions with La Chanson 
 
 Normandie. 
 
 "Brigadier! repondit Pandore 
 Brigadier! vous avez raison, 
 Brigadier! repondit Pandore, 
 Brigadier! vous avez raison!" 
 
 O spirit of the mountain! that speaks to us 
 
 to-night, 
 Return again and bring us new dreams of past 
 
 delight, 
 And while our heart-throbs linger, and till our 
 
 pulses cease, 
 We '11 worship thee among the hills where 
 
 flows the Saint- Maurice. 
 
 Phil-o-rum Juneau A Story of the 
 " Chasse Gallerie" 
 
 In the days of the "Old Regime" in Canada, the free 
 life of the woods and prairies proved too tempting for the 
 52
 
 PHIL-0-RUM JUNEAU 
 
 young men, who frequently deserted civilization for the 
 savage delights of the wilderness, These voyageurs and 
 coureurs de bois seldom returned in the flesh, but on every 
 New Year's Eve, back thro' snowstorm and hurricane in 
 mid-air came their spirits in ghostly canoes, to join, for 
 a brief spell, the old folks at home and kiss the girls, on 
 the annual feast of the "Jour de 1'an," or New Year's 
 Day The legend which still survives in French-speaking 
 Canada is known as "La Chasse Gallerie." 
 
 tTE sit on de corner mos' every night, ole 
 
 Phil-o-rum Juneau, 
 Spik wit' hese'f an' shake de head, an* smoke 
 
 on de pipe also 
 Very hard job it 's for wake him up, no matter 
 
 de loud we call 
 Wen he 's feex hese'f on de beeg arm-chair, 
 
 back on de kitchen wall. 
 
 He don't believe not'ing at all, at all 'bout 
 
 lates' new fashion t'ing 
 Le char 'lectrique an' de telephome, was talk 
 
 w'en de bell she ring 
 Dat 's leetle too moche for de ole bonhomme, 
 
 mak" him shake it de head an' say 
 "Wat's use mak' de foolish lak dat, sapre"! 
 I 'm not born only yesterday. " 
 53
 
 PHIL-O-RUM JUNEAU 
 
 But if you want story dat 's true, true, true, I 
 
 tole you good wan moi-meme 
 An' de t'ing you was spik, dat I don't believe, 
 
 for sure she was beat all dem. 
 So he 's cough leetle cough, clear 'im up de 
 
 t'roat, fill hees pipe wit' some more tabac, 
 An' w'en de chil'ren is come tranquille, de ole 
 
 man begin comme ca. 
 
 L'enfant! 1'enfant! it's very strange t'ing! 
 
 mak' me laugh too w 'en I hear 
 De young peep talk of de long, long tarn of 
 
 seventy, eighty year! 
 Dat 's only be jus' eighty New Year Day, an' 
 
 quickly was pass it by 
 It 's beeg, beeg dream, an' you don't wake up, 
 
 till affer you 're comin' die. 
 
 Dat 's true sure enough, you see curi's t'ing, 
 
 if you only leev leetle w'ile, 
 So long you got monee go all de place, for 
 
 mebbe t'ree t'ousan' mile, 
 But monee 's not everyt'ing on dis worl',1 tole 
 
 you dat, mes amis, 
 
 An' man can be ole lak' two honder year, an' 
 not see it, La Chasse Gal 'rie. 
 54
 
 PHIL-O-RUM JUNEAU 
 
 I never forget de fine New Year night, nearly 
 
 seexty year ago, 
 Wen I 'm lef ' it our place for attend soiree, on 
 
 ole Maxime Baribault, 
 Nine mile away, I can see tin roof, on church. 
 
 of de St. Joseph, 
 An' over de snow, de leaf dat die las' fall, was 
 
 chasin' itse'f. 
 
 Dere was some of da neighbor house I call, 
 
 dat 's be de ole fashion style, 
 An' very nice style too, mes amis, I hope she 
 
 will las' long w'ile, 
 I shak' it de han', I drink sante", an' kiss it de 
 
 girl she 's face, 
 So it 's come ten o'clock, w'en I pass on road, 
 
 for visit Maxime hees place. 
 
 But I 'm not go more mebbe t'ree arpent, w'en 
 
 de sky is get black all roun', 
 An' de win' she blow lak I never see, an' de 
 
 beeg snowstorm come down. 
 I mak' it my min' she 's goin' be soon, de very 
 
 bad night for true, 
 Dat 's locky I got plaintee whiskey lef, so I 
 
 tak' it wan leetle "coup." 
 55
 
 PHIL-O-RUM JUNEAU 
 
 Purty quick affer dat, I 'm corhin' nice place, 
 
 was stan'in' some fine beeg tree 
 Were de snow don't dreef, an' it seem jus' 
 
 lak dat place it is mak' for me, 
 So I pass it on dere, for mak' safe mese'f, w'ile 
 
 de storm is blow outside, 
 As if all de devil on hell below, was tak' heem 
 
 some fancy ride. 
 
 Wan red fox he 's comin' so close, so close, I 
 
 could ketch him wit' de han', 
 But not on de tarn lak dis ma frien', "Marche 
 
 toi all de quick you can, " 
 Poor feller he 's tire an' seem los' hees way, 
 
 an' w 'en he reach home dat night 
 Mebbe he fin' it all was close up, an' de door 
 
 it was fassen tight. 
 
 But w'at is dat soun' mak' de hair stan' up, 
 
 w'at is it mean, dat cry? 
 Comin' over de high tree top, out of de nor'- 
 
 wes' sky 
 Lak cry of de wiT goose w'en she pass on de 
 
 spring tarn an' de fall, 
 But wiT goose fly on de winter night! I never 
 
 see dat at all. 
 
 56
 
 PHIL-O-RUM JUNEAU 
 
 On, on t'roo de night, she is quickly come, 
 more closer all de tarn, 
 
 But not lak de cry of some wiT bird now, don't 
 seem it at all de sam' ; 
 
 An' den wit' de rush of de win', I hear some- 
 body sing chanson 
 
 An' de song dey sing is de ole, ole song, "Le 
 Canayen Errant." 
 
 But it 's mak' me lonesome an' scare also, jus* 
 
 sam' I be goin' for die 
 Wen I lissen dat song on night lak dis, so far 
 
 away on de sky, 
 Don't know w'at to do at all mese'f, so I go 
 
 w 'ere I have good view, 
 An' up, up above t'roo de storm an' snow, 
 
 she 's comin' wan beeg canoe. 
 
 Den somebody call it ma nam' out loud, firs' 
 
 tarn it was scare me so, 
 "We know right away, dat was you be dere, 
 
 hello Phil-o-rum, hello!" 
 An' soon I see him dat feller spik, I 'member 
 
 him too mese'f, 
 We go de sam' school twenty year before, hees 
 
 nam's Telesphore Le Boeuf. 
 57
 
 PHIL-O-RUM JUNEAU 
 
 But I know on de way canoe she go, dat de 
 
 crowd he mus' be dead man 
 Was come from de Grande Riviere du Nord, 
 
 come from Saskatchewan, 
 Come too from all de place is lie on de Hodson 
 
 Bay Contree, 
 An' de t'ing I was see me dat New Year night, 
 
 is le phantome Chasse Gal'rie. 
 
 An' many de boy I was see him dere, I know 
 
 him so long before 
 He 's goin' away on de far contree for never 
 
 return no more 
 An' now on phantome he is comin' home t 'roo 
 
 de storm an' de hurricane 
 For kiss him de girl on jour de 1'an, an' see de 
 
 ole peep again. 
 
 De beeg voyageur w'at is steer canoe, wit' 
 
 paddle hoi' on hees han' 
 Got very long hair was hang down hees neck, 
 
 de sam' as wil' Injin man 
 Invite me on boar' dat phantome canoe, for 
 
 show it dead man de way 
 Don't lak it de job, but no use refuse, so I '11 
 
 mak' it de embarquer. 
 58
 
 PHIL-0-RUM JUNEAU 
 
 Den wan of de gang, he mus' be foreman, say 
 
 it 's tarn for have leetle drink, 
 So he pass heem black bottle for tak' un "coup, " 
 
 an' it 's look lak ma own I t'ink, 
 But it can't be de sam', I '11 be swear for dat, 
 
 for w'en I was mak' de go, 
 I fin* dere is not'ing inside but win', an' de 
 
 whiskey 's phantome also. 
 
 Dey be laugh affer dat, lak dey tak' some fit, 
 
 so de boss spik him, "Tiens Phil-o-rum, 
 Never min' on dem feller mus' have leetle 
 
 sport, dat 's very long way we come, 
 Will you ketch it de paddle for steer us quick 
 
 on place of Maxime Baribault?" 
 An' he 's ax me so nice, I do as he please', an* 
 
 den away off she go. 
 
 Wan minute two minute we pass on dere, 
 
 Maxime he is all hooraw! 
 An' we know by musique dat was play inside, 
 
 mus' be de great Joe Violon, 
 Dat feller work fiddle on very bes' way, dat 
 
 nobody never see 
 Mak' de boy an' de girl, ole peep also, dance 
 
 lak dey was go crazee. 
 59
 
 PHIL-O-RUM JUNEAU 
 
 You s'pose dey was let me come on dat house? 
 
 Not at all, for de boss he say, 
 ' ' Phil-o-rum, it's long tarn we don't see our 
 
 frien' can't get heem chance ev'ry day, 
 Please stop on canoe so she won't blow off, 
 
 w 'ile we pass on de house an' see 
 Dem frien' we was lef an' de girl we spark, 
 
 before we go strange contree. " 
 
 An' me I was sit on canoe outside, jus' lak I 
 
 was sapre fou, 
 Watchin' dem feller dat 's all dead man, dance 
 
 heem lak Loup Garou. 
 De boss he kiss Marie Louise, ma girl, dat 's 
 
 way he spen' mos' de tarn, 
 But of course she know not 'ing of dat biz-nesse 
 
 don't lak it me jus' de sam'. 
 
 By tarn I 'm commence it for feel de col', 
 
 dey 're all comin' out encore, 
 An' we start off again t'roo de sky, hooraw! 
 
 for mak' de visite some more, 
 All de place on de parish we go dat night, 
 
 w'erever dey get some dance, 
 Till I feel it so tire, I could sleep right off, but 
 
 dey don't geev it me no chance. 
 60
 
 PHIL-O-RUM JUNEAU 
 
 De las' place we 're passin' dat 's Bill Boucher, 
 
 he 's very good frien' of me, 
 An' I t'ink it 's near tarn I was lef dat crowd, 
 
 so I '11 snub de canoe on tree, 
 Den affer dead man he was safe inside, an' 
 
 ev'rywan start danser, 
 I go on de barn wat 's behin' de house, for 
 
 see I can't hide away. 
 
 She 's nice place de barn, an' got plaintee 
 
 warm, an' I 'm feel very glad be dere, 
 So long dead feller don't fin' me out, an' ketch 
 
 it me on de hair, 
 But s'pose I get col', work him hard all night, 
 
 'cos I make it wan leetle cough, 
 Wen de rooster he 's scare, holler t'ree, four 
 
 tam, an' whole t 'ing she bus' right off. 
 
 I '11 never see not'ing so quick again Canoe 
 
 an' dead man go scat! 
 She 's locky de rooster he mak' de noise, bus* 
 
 ev'ryt'ing up lak dat, 
 Or mebbe dem feller get me encore, an' tak* 
 
 me on Hodson Bay, 
 But it 's all right now, for de morning 's come, 
 
 an' he see me ole Bill Boucher. 
 61
 
 PHIL-O-RUM JUNEAU 
 
 I 'm feel it so tire, an' sore all de place, wit' all 
 
 de hard work I do' 
 'Cos I 'm not very use for mak' paddle, me, on 
 
 beeg, beeg phantome canoe, 
 But Bill an' hees boy dey was leef me up, an' 
 
 carry me on maison 
 Were plaintee nice t'ing dey was mak' me eat 
 
 an' drink it some whiskey blanc. 
 
 An' now w'en I 'm finish, w'at you t'ink it 
 
 youse'f, 'bout story dat you was hear? 
 No wonner ma hair she is all turn w'ite before 
 
 I get eighty year! 
 But 'member dis t'ing, I be tole you firs, don't 
 
 los' it mes chers amis, 
 De man he can leev him on long, long tam, 
 
 an' not see it La Chasse Gal'rie! 
 
 He sit on de corner mos* every night, ole Phil- 
 
 o-rum Juneau, 
 Spik wit' hesef,' an' shak' de head, an' smoke 
 
 on de pipe also, 
 But kip very quiet, don't wak' him up, let him 
 
 stay on de kitchen wall, 
 For if you believe w'at de ole man say, you 
 
 believe any t'ing at all. 
 62
 
 DE BELL OF SAINT MICHEL 
 
 De Bell of Saint Michel // 
 
 'way, go 'way, don't ring no more, ole 
 bell of Saint Michel, 
 For if you do, I can't stay here, you know dat 
 
 very well, 
 No matter how I close ma ear, I can't shut out 
 
 de soun', 
 
 It rise so high 'bove all de noise of dis beeg 
 Yankee town. 
 
 An' w'en it ring, I t'ink I feel de cool, cool 
 
 summer breeze 
 Dat 's blow across Lac Peezagonk, an' play 
 
 among de trees, 
 Dey 're makin' hay, I know mese'f, can smell 
 
 de pleasant smell 
 O! how I wish I could be dere to-day on Saint 
 
 Michel! 
 
 It 's fonny t'ing, for me I 'm sure, dat 's travel 
 
 ev'ryw'ere, 
 How moche I t'ink of long ago w'en I be leevin* 
 
 dere; 
 I can't 'splain dat at all, at all, mebbe it 's 
 
 naturel, 
 But I can't help it w'en I hear de bell of Saint 
 
 Michel. 
 
 63
 
 DE BELL OF SAINT MICHEL 
 
 Dere 's plaintee t'ing I don't forget, but I 
 
 remember bes' 
 c)e spot I fin' wan day on June de small san'- 
 
 piper's nes' 
 An* dat hole on de reever w'ere I ketch de 
 
 beeg, beeg trout 
 Was very nearly pull me in before I pull heem 
 
 out. 
 
 An' leetle Elodie Leclaire, I wonner if she 
 
 still 
 Leev jus' sam' place she use to leev on 'noder 
 
 side de hill. 
 But s'pose she marry Joe Barbeau, dat 's alway 
 
 hangin' roun' 
 Since I am lef ole Saint Michel for work on 
 
 Yankee town. 
 
 Ah! dere she go, ding dong, ding, dong, its 
 
 back, encore again 
 An' ole chanson come on ma head of "a la 
 
 claire fontaine, " 
 I 'm not surprise it soun' so sweet, more sweeter 
 
 I can tell 
 For wit' de song also I hear de bell of Saint 
 
 Michel. 
 
 64
 
 PELANG 
 
 It 's very strange about dat bell, go ding dong 
 
 all de w'ile 
 For when I 'm small gargon at school, can't 
 
 hear it half a mile ; 
 But seems more farder I get off from Church 
 
 of Saint Michel, 
 De more I see de ole village an' louder soun' 
 
 de bell. 
 
 O ! all de monee dat I male' w'en I be travel roun' 
 Can't kip me long away from home on dis beeg 
 
 Yankee town, 
 I t'ink I '11 settle down again on Parish Saint 
 
 Michel, 
 An' leev an' die more satisfy so long I hear dat 
 
 bell. 
 
 Pelang 
 
 "DELANO! Pelang! Mon cher gargon, 
 
 I t'ink of you t'ink of you night and 
 
 day 
 
 Don't mak' no difference, seems to me 
 De long long tarn you 're gone away.
 
 PELANG 
 
 De snow is deep on de Grande Montagne 
 Lak tender de rapide roar below 
 
 De sam' kin' night, ma boy get los' 
 On beeg, beeg storm forty year ago. 
 
 An' I never was hear de win' blow hard, 
 
 An' de snow come sweesh on de window 
 pane 
 
 But ev'ryt'ing 'pear lak' it 's yesterday 
 
 An' whole of ma troub' is come back again. 
 
 Ah me! I was foolish young girl den 
 
 It 's only ma own plaisir I care, 
 An' w'en some dance or soiree come off 
 
 Dat 's very sure t'ing you will see me dere. 
 
 Don't got too moche sense at all dat tarn, 
 Run ev'ry place on de whole contree 
 
 But I change beeg lot w'en Pelang come 'long, 
 For I love him so well, kin' o' steady me. 
 
 An' he was de bes' boy on Coteau, 
 An' t'ink I am de bes' girl too for sure 
 
 He 's tole me dat, geev de ring also 
 Was say on de inside "Je t'aime toujours. " 
 
 I geev heem some hair dat come off ma head, 
 I mak' de nice stocking for warm hees feet, 
 
 So ev'ryt'ing 's feex, w'en de spring is come 
 For mak' mariee on de church toute suite. 
 66 

 
 PELANG 
 
 "Wen de spring is come!" Ah I don't see 
 dat, 
 
 Dough de year is pass as dey pass before, 
 An' de season come, an' de season go, 
 
 But our spring never was come no more. 
 
 It 's on de fte of de jour de 1'an, 
 An' de worl' outside is cple an' w'ite 
 
 As I sit an' watch for mon cher Pelang 
 
 For he 's promise come see me dis very night. 
 
 Bonhomme Peloquin dat is leev near us 
 He 's alway keep look heem upon de moon 
 
 See fonny t'ing dere only week before, 
 
 An' say he 's expec' some beeg storm soon. 
 
 So ma fader is mak' it de laugh on me 
 
 "Pelang he's believe heem de ole Bon- 
 homme 
 
 Dat t'ink he see ev'ryt'ing on de moon 
 An' mebbe he 's feel it too scare for come." 
 
 But I don't spik not'ing I am so sure 
 
 Of de promise Pelang is mak' wit' me 
 
 An' de mos' beeg storm dat is never blow 
 Can't kip heem away from hees own Marie. 
 67
 
 PELANG 
 
 I open de door, an' pass outside 
 For see mese'f how de night is look 
 
 An' de star is commence for go couche* 
 De mountain also is put on hees tuque. 
 
 No sooner, I come on de house again 
 
 Were ev'ryt'ing feel it so nice an' warm, 
 Dan out of de sky come de Nor' Eas' win' 
 
 Out of de sky come de beeg snow storm. 
 
 Blow lak not'ing I never see, 
 
 Blow lak le diable he was mak' grande tour; 
 De snow come down lak wan avalanche, 
 
 An' cole! Mon Dieu, it is cole for sure! 
 
 f 
 
 I t'ink, I t'ink of mon pauvre gargon, 
 Dat 's out mebbe on de Grande Montagne ; 
 
 So I place chandelle w'ere it 's geev good light, 
 An' pray Le Bon Dieu he will help Pelang. 
 
 De ole folk t'ink I am go crazee, 
 
 An' moder she 's geev me de good night kiss; 
 She say "Go off on your bed, Marie, 
 
 Dere 's nobody come on de storm lak dis." 
 
 But ma eye don't close dat long, long, night 
 For it seem jus' lak phantome is near, 
 
 An' I t'ink of de terrible Loup Garou 
 An' all de bad story I offen hear. 
 68
 
 PELANG 
 
 Dere was tarn I am sure something call "Marie" 
 
 So plainly I open de outside door, 
 But it 's meet me only de awful storm, 
 
 An de cry pass away don't come no more. 
 
 An' de morning sun, w'en he 's up at las', 
 Fin' me w'ite as de face of de snow itse'f, 
 
 For I know very well, on de Grande Montagne, 
 Ma poor Pelang he 's come dead hese'f. 
 
 It 's noon by de clock w'en de storm blow off, 
 An' ma fader an' broder start out for see 
 
 Any track on de snow by de mountain side, 
 Or down on de place w'ere chemin should be. 
 
 No sign at all on de Grande Montagne, 
 No sign all over de w'ite, w'ite snow; 
 
 Only hear de win' on de beeg pine tree, 
 An' roar of de rapide down below. 
 
 An' w'ere is he lie, mon cher Pelang! 
 
 Pelang ma boy I was love so well? 
 Only Le Bon Dieu up above 
 
 An' mebbe de leetle snow bird can tell. 
 
 An' I t'ink I hear de leetle bird say, 
 
 "Wait till de snow is geev up its dead, 
 
 Wait till I go, an' de robin come, 
 
 An' den you will fin' hces cole, cole bed." 
 69
 
 MON CHOUAL " CASTOR " 
 
 An' it 's all come true, for w'en de sun 
 
 Is warm de side of de Grande Montagne 
 
 An' drive away all de winter snow, 
 We fin' heem at las', mon cher Pelang! 
 
 An' here on de fte of de jour de 1'an, 
 
 Alone by mese'f I sit again, 
 Wile de beeg, beeg storm is blow outside, 
 
 An' de snow come sweesh on de window 
 pane. 
 
 Not all alone, for I t'ink I hear 
 
 De voice of ma boy gone long ago ; 
 
 Can hear it above de hurricane, 
 An' roar of de rapide down below. 
 
 Yes yes Pelang, mon cher garcon! 
 
 I t'ink of you, t'ink of you night an' day, 
 Don't mak' no difference seems to me 
 
 How long de tarn you was gone away. 
 
 Mon Choual " Castor' 
 
 J 
 
 T 'M poor man, me, but I buy las' May 
 
 * Wan horse on de Comp'nie Passengaire, 
 
 An' auction feller w'at sole heem say 
 
 She 's out of de full-breed "Messengaire." 
 70
 
 MON CHOUAL " CASTOR " 
 
 Good trotter stock, also galluppe, 
 But work long tarn on de city car, 
 
 Of course she 's purty well break heem up, 
 So come leetle cheap twenty-wan dollarre. 
 
 Firs' chance I sen' heem on St. Cesaire, 
 Were I t'ink he 's have moche better sight, 
 
 Mebbe de grass an' de contree air 
 Very soon was feex heem up all right. 
 
 I lef ' heem dere till de fall come 'long, 
 
 An' dat trotter he can't eat grass no more, 
 
 An' w'en I go dere, I fin' heem strong 
 Lak not'ing I never see before. 
 
 I heetch heem up on de light sulkee, 
 L 'enfant ! dat horse he is cover groun' ! 
 
 Don't tak' long tarn for de crowd to see 
 Mon choual he was leek all trotter roun'. 
 
 Come down de race course lak' oiseau 
 Tail over datch boar', nice you please, 
 
 Can't tell for sure de quick he go, 
 
 S 'pose somew'ere 'bout two, t'ree forties. 
 
 I treat ma frien' on de whiskey blanc, 
 
 An' we drink "Castor" he's bonne sante" 
 
 From L'Achigan to St. Armand, 
 
 He 's bes' horse sure on de whole comte". 
 
 71
 
 MON CHOUAL " CASTOR " 
 
 'Bout week on front of dis, Lalime, 
 
 Dat man drive horse call "Clevelan' Bay" 
 Was challenge, so I match wit' heem 
 
 For wan mile heat on straight away. 
 
 Dat 's twenty dollarre on wan side, 
 
 De lawyer 's draw de paper out, 
 Birt if dem trotter come in tied, 
 
 Wall! all dat monee 's go on spout. 
 
 Nex' t'ing ma backer man, Labrie, 
 
 Tak' off his catch-book vingt cinq cents, 
 An' toss Lalime bes' two on free 
 
 For see who 's go on inside fence. 
 
 Bateese Lalime, he 's purty smart, 
 An' gain dat toss wit' jockey trick. 
 
 I don't care me, w'en "Castor" start, 
 Very soon I t'ink he 's mak' heem sick. 
 
 Beeg crowd of course was dere for see 
 Dem trotter on de grand match race 
 
 Some people come from St. Remi 
 An' some from plaintee 'noder place. 
 
 W'en all is ready, flag was fall 
 
 An' way dem trotter pass on fence 
 
 Lak not 'ing you never see at all, 
 
 It mak' me t'ink of "St. Lawrence."* 
 
 * " St. Lawrence," the Canadian " Dexter." 
 72
 
 MON CHOUAL " CASTOR " 
 
 "Castor," hees tail was stan' so straight 
 Could place chapeau on de en' of top 
 
 An' w'en he struck two forty gait 
 Don't seem he 's never go for stop. 
 
 Wall ! dat 's all right for firs' half mile 
 
 W'en Clevelan' Bay commence for break, 
 
 Dat mak' me feel very moche lak smile, 
 I 'm sure "Castor" he 's took de cake. 
 
 But Lalime pull heem hard on line 
 An' stop "Clevelan"' before go far, 
 
 It 's all no good, he can't ketch mine 
 I 'm go more quicker lak express car. 
 
 I 'm feel all right for my monee, 
 
 For sure mon Choual he 's took firs' place r 
 W 'en 'bout arpent from home, sapre*, 
 
 Somet'ing she 's happen, I 'm los' de 
 
 Wan bad boy he 's come out on track, 
 I cannot see dat bad boy's han'; 
 
 He 's hoi' somet'ing behin' hees back, 
 It was small bell, I understan'. 
 
 Can spik for dat, ma horse go well, 
 An' never show no sign of sweat, 
 
 Until dat boy he 's ring hees bell 
 Misere! I t'ink I hear heem yet! 
 73
 
 MON CHOUAL " CASTOR " 
 
 Wall! jus' so soon mon Choual "Castor" 
 
 Was hear dat bell go kling! klang! kling! 
 
 He 's t 'ink of course of city car, 
 An' s'pose mus' be conductor ring. 
 
 Firs' t'ing I know ma trotter 's drop 
 Dat tail was stan' so straight before, 
 
 An' affer dat, mebbe he stop 
 
 For me, I don't know not'ing more. 
 
 But w'en I 'm come alive again 
 
 I fin' dat horse call "Clevelan' Bay" 
 
 Was got firs' place, an' so he 's gain 
 Dat wan mile heat on straight away. 
 
 An' now w'erever I am go 
 
 Bad boy he 's sure for holler an' yell 
 Dis done! Dis done! Paul Archambault! 
 
 Wat's matter wit' your chestnutte bell? 
 
 Mak' plaintee troub' dem bad garcons, 
 
 An' offen ring some bell also, 
 Was mad! Could plonge on de St. Laurent 
 
 An' w'at to do, "Castor" don't know. 
 
 Las' tam I pass de railway track 
 
 For drive avec mon frere Alfred, 
 In-jinne she's ring, "Castor" he's back, 
 
 Monjee! it 's fonny I 'm not come dead! 
 74
 
 OLE TAM ON BORD-A PLOUFFE 
 
 Toujours comme ga ! an' mak' me sick, 
 But horse dat work long on les chars 
 
 Can't broke dem off on fancy trick 
 So now I 'm busy for sole " Castor. " 
 
 Ole Tarn on Bord-a Plouffe 
 
 T LAK on summer ev'ning, w'en nice cool 
 
 win' is blowin' 
 An' up above ma head, I hear de pigeon on 
 
 de roof, 
 To bring ma chair an' sit dere, an' watch de 
 
 current flowin' 
 
 Of ole Riviere des Prairies as she pass de 
 Bord-a Plouffe. 
 
 But it seem dead place for sure now, on shore 
 
 down by de lan'in' 
 No more de voyageurs is sing lak dey was 
 
 sing alway 
 De tree dey 're commence growin' w'ere 
 
 shaintee once is stan'in', 
 An' no one scare de swallow w'en she fly 
 across de bay. 
 
 75
 
 OLE TAM ON BORD-A PLOUFFE 
 
 I don't lak see de reever she 's never doin' 
 
 not 'in' 
 But passin' empty ev'ry day on Bout de 1'ile 
 
 below 
 Ma ole shaloup dat 's lyin' wit' all its timber 
 
 rottin' 
 
 An' tarn so change on Bord-a Plouffe since 
 forty year ago! 
 
 De ice dat freeze on winter, might jus' as well 
 
 be stay dere, 
 For w'en de spring she 's comin' de only 
 
 t'ing I see 
 Is two, t'ree piqnique feller, hees girl was row 
 
 away dere, 
 
 Don't got no use for water now, on Riviere 
 des Prairies. 
 
 'T was diff rent on dem summer you could n't 
 
 see de reever, 
 Wit' saw-log an' squar' timber raf, mos' all 
 
 de season t'roo 
 Two honder man an' more too all busy lak 
 
 de beaver, 
 
 An' me! I 'm wan de pilot for ronne 'em 
 down de "Soo. " 
 76
 
 OLE TAM ON BORD-A PLOUFFE 
 
 Don't 'member lak I use to, for now I 'm get- 
 tin' ole, me 
 But still I can't forget Bill Wade, an' Guil- 
 
 laume Lagasse, 
 Joe Monferrand, Bazile Montour wit' plaintee 
 
 I can't tole, me, 
 
 An' king of all de Bord-a Plouffe, M'sieu' 
 Venance Lemay. 
 
 Lak small boy on hees lesson, I learn de way 
 
 to han'le 
 Mos' beeges' raf is never float upon de 
 
 Ottawaw, 
 Ma fader show me dat too, for well he know 
 
 de channel, 
 
 From Dutchman Rapide up above to Bout 
 de 1 'ile en bas. 
 
 He 's smart man too, ma fader, only t'ing he 
 
 got de bow-leg, 
 Ridin' log w'en leetle feller, mebbe dat 's 
 
 de reason w'y. 
 All de sam', if he's in hurry, den Bagosh! 
 
 he 's got heem no leg 
 
 But wing an' fedder lak oiseau, was fly upon 
 de sky! 
 
 77
 
 OLE TAM ON BORD-A PLOUFFE 
 
 O dat was tarn we 're happy, an' man dey 're 
 
 alway singin', 
 For if it 's hard work on de raf, w'y dere 's 
 
 your monee sure! 
 An' ev'ry summer evenin', ole Bord-a Plouffe 
 
 she 's ringin' 
 
 Wit' "En Roulant ma Boule" an' "J* 
 aimerai toujour. " 
 
 Dere dey 're comin' on de wagon ! fine young 
 
 feller ev'ry wan too, 
 Dress im up de ole tarn fashion, dat I lak for 
 
 see encore, 
 Yellin' hooraw! t'roo de village, all de horse 
 
 upon de ronne too, 
 
 Ah poor Bord-a Plouffe! she never have dem 
 tam again no more ! 
 
 Very off en w'en I 'm sleepin', I was feel as if 
 
 I 'm goin' 
 Down de ole Riviere des Prairies on de raf* 
 
 de sam as den 
 An' ma dream is only lef me, w'en de rooster 
 
 commence crowin' 
 
 But it can't do me no harm, 'cos it mak' me 
 young again. 
 
 78
 
 OLE TAM ON BORD-A PLOUFFE 
 
 An' upon de morning early, w'en de reever fog 
 
 is clearin' 
 An' sun is makin' up hees min' for drive 
 
 away de dew, 
 W'en young bird want hees breakfas', I wak' 
 
 an' t'ink I 'm hearin' 
 
 Somebody shout "Hooraw, Bateese, de raf 
 she 's wait for you." 
 
 Dat 's voice of Guillaume Lagasse* was call me 
 
 on de morning 
 Jus' outside on de winder w'ere you look 
 
 across de bay, 
 But he's drown upon de Longue "Soo, " wit' 
 
 never word of warning 
 
 An' green grass cover over poor Guillaume 
 Lagasse. 
 
 I s'pose dat 's meanin' somet'ing mebbe I 'm 
 
 not long for stay here, 
 Seein' all dem strange t'ing happen dead 
 
 frien' comin' roun' me so 
 But I 'm sure I die more happy, if I got jus* 
 
 wan more day here, 
 
 Lak we have upon de ole tam Bord-a Plouffe 
 of long ago! 
 
 79
 
 THE GRAND SEIGNEUR 
 
 The Grand Seigneur 
 
 ^T^O the hut of the peasant, or lordly hall, 
 To the heart of the king, or humblest 
 
 thrall, 
 
 Sooner or late, love comes to all, 
 And it came to the Grand Seigneur, my dear, 
 It came to the Grand Seigneur. 
 
 The robins were singing a roundelay, 
 And the air was sweet with the breath of May, 
 As a horseman rode thro' the forest way, 
 And he was a Grand Seigneur, my dear, 
 He was a Grand Seigneur. 
 
 Lord of the Manor, Count Belief ontaine, 
 Had spurr'd over many a stormy plain 
 With gallants of France at his bridle rein, 
 For he was a brave Cavalier, my dear 
 He was a brave Cavalier. 
 
 But the huntsman's daughter, La Belle Marie, 
 Held the Knight's proud heart in captivity, 
 And oh ! she was fair as the fleur de lys, 
 Tho' only a peasant maid, my dear, 
 Only a peasant maid. 
 80
 
 THE GRAND SEIGNEUR 
 
 Thro* the woodland depths on his charger grey 
 To the huntsman's cottage he rides away, 
 And the maiden lists to a tale to-day 
 TJaat haughtiest dame might hear, my dear, 
 That haughtiest dame might hear. 
 
 But she cried "Alas! it may never be, 
 For my heart is pledged to the young Louis, 
 And I love him, O Sire, so tenderly, 
 Tho' he 's only a poor Chasseur, my Lord, 
 Only a poor Chasseur. " 
 
 "Enough," spake the Knight with a courtly 
 
 bow, 
 
 "Be true to thy lover and maiden vow, 
 For virtue like thine is but rare, I trow, 
 And farewell to my dream of love, and thee, 
 Farewell to my dream of thee, " 
 
 And they say the gallant Count Bellefontaine 
 Bestowed on the couple a rich domain, 
 But you never may hear such tale again, 
 For he was a Grand Seigneur, my dear, 
 
 He was a Grand Seigneur! 
 6 81
 
 M'SIEU SMIT 
 
 M'sieu Smit', The Adventures of an 
 Englishman in the Canadian Woods 
 
 VKT'AN morning de walkim boss say " Damase, 
 I t 'ink you 're good man on canoe 
 d'ecorce, 
 So I '11 ax you go wit' your frien' Phileas 
 
 An' meet M'sieu Smit' on Chenail W'ite 
 Horse. 
 
 "He'll have I am sure de grosse baggage 
 Mebbe some valise mebbe six or t'ree 
 
 But if she 's too moche for de longue portage 
 'Poleon he will tak' 'em wit' mail buggee." 
 
 Wen we reach Chenail, plaintee peep be dere, 
 An' wan frien' of me, call Placide Chretien, 
 
 'Splain all dat w'en he say man from Angleterre 
 Was spik heem de crowd on de "Parisien. " 
 
 Fonny way dat Englishman he '11 be dress * 
 Leetle pant my dear frien' jus' come on 
 
 knee, 
 
 Wit' coat dat 's no coat at all only ves* 
 An' hat de more stranger I never see! 
 82
 
 M'SIEU SMIT' 
 
 Wall! dere he sit on de en' some log 
 An' swear heem in English purty loud 
 
 Den talk Frangais, w'ile hees chien boule dog 
 Go smellim an' smellim aroun' de crowd. 
 
 I spik im "Bonjour, M'sieu Smit', Bonjour,. 
 
 I hope dat yourse'f and famille she 's well?" 
 M'sieu Smit' he is also say "Bonjour," 
 
 An' call off hees dog dat 's commence for 
 smell. 
 
 I tell heem my name dat 's Damase Labrie 
 I am come wit' Phileas for mak' de trip, 
 
 An' he say I 'm de firs' man he never see 
 Spik English encore since he lef de ship. 
 
 He is also ax it to me " Damase, 
 
 De peep she don't seem understan' Frangais, 
 Wat's matter wit' dat?" An' I say "Becos" 
 
 You mak' too much talk on de Parisien." 
 
 De groun* she is pile wit' baggage Sapre"! 
 
 An' I see purty quick we got plaintee troub 
 Two tronk, t'ree valise, four-five fusil, 
 
 An' w'at M'sieu Smit' he is call "bat* tubbe." 
 
 M 'sieu Smit' he 's tole me w'at for 's dat t'ing, 
 An' it seem Englishman he don't feel -correc' 
 
 Until he 's go plonge on some bat' morning 
 An' sponge it hees possibill high hees neck. 
 83
 
 M'SIEU SMIT 
 
 Of course dat 's not'ing of my beez-nesse, 
 He can plonge on de water mos' ev'ry 
 
 day, 
 But I t'ink for mese'f it mak' foolishness 
 
 An' don't do no good w'en your bonne 
 sante. 
 
 Wen I tell 'Poleon he mus* mak' dat job, 
 Dere 's leetle too moche for canoe d'ecorce, 
 
 He's mad right away an' say "Sapre diable! 
 You t'ink I go work lak wan niggerhorse? 
 
 ""I 'm not manufacture dat way, ba non, 
 
 Dat rich stranger man he have lot monee, 
 
 I go see my frien' Onesime Gourdon, 
 
 An' tole heem bring horse wit' some more 
 buggee. " 
 
 Wall! affer some w'ile dey '11 arrange all dat, 
 'Poleon an' hees frien' Onesime Gourdon, 
 
 But w'en 'Poleon is tak' hole of bat', 
 
 He receive it beeg scare immediatement ! 
 
 Dat chien boule dog, I was tole you 'bout' 
 I ani not understan' w 'at good she 's for, 
 
 Eat 'Poleon's leg w'it hees teet' an' mout, 
 'Poleon he is feel very mad by Gor! 
 
 84
 
 M'SIEU SMIT 
 
 Of course I am poule heem hees tail toute suite 
 But I don't know some reason mak' all dis 
 troub', 
 
 Wen I hear me dat Englishman, M'sieu Smit* 
 Say 'Poleon, w'at for you took my tubbe? 
 
 "Leff 'im dere for I don't low nobodee 
 Walk heem off on any such way lak dat; 
 
 You may tak' all de res', an' I don't care me 
 But de man he '11 be keel who is tak' my 
 bat'." 
 
 "I will carry heem wit' me, " say M 'sieu Smit' 
 "W'erever dat tubbe she mus' go, I go 
 
 No matter de many place we visite, 
 An' my sponge I will tak' mese'f also." 
 
 Phileas say "Damase, we mus' bull* some raf 
 Or mebbe some feller be sure get drown"; 
 
 Dis geev me plaisir, but I 'm scare mak' laf, 
 So I '11 do it mese'f, inside, way down. 
 
 At las' we are start on voyage, sure miff, 
 
 M'sieu Smit' carry tubbe on de top hees 
 
 head, 
 Good job, I t'ink so, de lac is n't rough, 
 
 Or probably dis tarn, we 're all come dead. 
 85
 
 M'SIEU SMIT 
 
 De dog go wit' Onesime Gourdon, 
 An' Onesime afferwar' say to me, 
 
 "Dat chien bonle dog is eat 'Poleon 
 Was de more quiet dog I never see. " 
 
 But fun she 's commence on very nex' day 
 Wen we go camp out on de Castor Noir. 
 
 Dat Englishman he '11 come along an' say 
 "I hope some wil' Injun she don't be dere. 
 
 "I have hear many tarn, dat de wood be foule 
 Of Injun w'at tak' off de hair your head. 
 
 But so surely my name she 's Johnnie Boule 
 If I see use dem feller I shoot it dead. " 
 
 Phileas den pray harder, more quick he can 
 Mebbe he 's t'ink dat 's hees las' portage 
 
 De moder hees fader, she 's Injun man 
 Derefore an' also, he is wan Sauvage. 
 
 I say "Don't mak' it some excitement; 
 
 Saison she is ' close ' on de spring an' fall, 
 An' dem peep dat work on de Gouvernement 
 
 Don't lak you shoot Injun dis mont' at all. 
 
 Nex' day M'sieu Smit' is perform hees plonge 
 We see heem go done it Phileas an' me, 
 
 An' w'en he 's hang up bat' tubbe an' sponge 
 We go on de wood for mak' Chasse perdrix. 
 36
 
 M'SIEU SMIT 
 
 An' mebbe you will not believe to me, 
 
 But w'en we come back on de camp encore 
 
 De sponge of dat Englishman don 't be see, 
 An' we fin' beeg bear she 's go dead on shore. 
 
 Very fonny t'ing how he 's loss hees life, 
 
 But Phileas he '11 know hese'f purty quick, 
 
 He cut M'sieu Bear wit' hees hunter knife, 
 An' sponge she 's fall out on de bear stummick. 
 
 Day affer we get two fox houn' from Boss 
 
 Dat 's good for ketch deer on de fall an' spring. 
 
 Den place Englishman w'ere he can 't get los' 
 An' tole heem shoot quicker he see somet'ing. 
 
 Wat 's dat leetle deer got no horn at all? 
 
 She '11 be moder small wan en suite bimeby. 
 Don't remember mese'f w'at name she 's call. 
 
 But dat 's de kin' start w'en de dog is cry. 
 
 We see heem come down on de runaway 
 
 De dog she is not very far behin' 
 An' w'en dey pass place M'sieu Smit' is stay 
 
 We expec' he will shoot or make noise some kin' I 
 
 But he 's not shoot at all, mon cher ami, 
 So we go an' we ax "Is he see some deer?'* 
 
 He say " Dat 's long tarn I am stay on tree 
 
 But I don't see not'ing she 's pass on here.'* 
 8?
 
 M'SIEU SMIF 
 
 We spik heem once more, "He dor't see fox 
 
 houn'?" 
 
 Wat you t'ink he is say, dat Englishman? 
 "Yes, I see dem pass quickly, upon de groun', 
 Wan beeg yellow dog, an' two small brown 
 wan." 
 
 He 's feel de more bad I don't see before 
 
 Wen he know dat beeg dog, she 's wan small 
 deer, 
 
 An' for mak' ev'ryt'ing correc' encore 
 We drink I am sure six bouteilles de biere. 
 
 Nex' day dat 's Dimanche he is spik to me, 
 "Damase, you mus' feel leetle fatigue, 
 
 You may sle'p wit' Phileas w 'ile I go an' see 
 I can't get some nice quiet tarn to-day. " 
 
 So for keep 'way skeeter, an' fly also 
 
 Bouteille from de shelf M'sieu Smit' he tak', 
 Den he start wit' his chien boule dog an' go 
 
 For nice quiet walk on shore of lac. 
 
 We don't sle'p half hour we'n dere 's beeg, beeg 
 
 yell, 
 
 Lak somet'ing I 'm sure don't hear long tarn, 
 An' we see wan feller we cannot tell, 
 
 Till he spik it, "Damase! Phileas!! dam 
 dam!!! 
 
 88
 
 M'SIEU SMIT' 
 
 Den we know it at once mon, cher ami, 
 
 But she 's swell up hees face hees neck an*' 
 han'! 
 
 It seem all de skeeter on w'ole contree 
 Is jump on de head of dat Englishman. 
 
 Some water on poor M'sieu Smit' we '11 t'row,. 
 
 An' w'en he 's tranquille fin' out ev'ry- 
 
 t'ing; 
 Bouteille he 's rub on, got some nice sirop 
 
 I was mak' mese'f on de wood las' spring. 
 
 Dere was jus' 'noder t'ing he seem for care 
 
 An' den he is feel it more satisfy, 
 Dat t'ing, my dear frien', was for keel some 
 bear, 
 
 If he '11 do dat wan tam, he 's prepare for die.. 
 
 Phile'as say he know w'ere some blue berree 
 Mak' very good place for de bear have fonne, 
 
 So we start nex' day on morning earlee, 
 
 An' M'sieu Smit' go wit' hees elephan' gun. 
 
 Wan woman sauvage she is come be dere, 
 
 Mebbe want some blue berree mak' some 
 
 pie, 
 
 Dat' Englishman shoot, he is t'ink she 's bear, 
 An' de woman she's holler, "Mon Dieu, 
 I'm die!" 
 
 89
 
 M'SIEU SMIT' 
 
 M 'sieu Smit' he don't do no harm, becos 
 
 He is shake hese'f w'en he shoot dat squaw, 
 
 But scare he pay hunder' dollar cos' 
 
 For keel some sauvage on de "close" saison. 
 
 T'ree day affer dat, we start out on lac 
 For ketch on de water wan Cariboo, 
 
 But win' she blow strong, an' we can't get 
 
 back 
 Till we t'row ourse'f out on dat canoe. 
 
 We t'ink M 'sieu Smit' he is sure be drown, 
 Leetle w'ile we can't see heem again no 
 more, 
 
 .An' den he 's come up from de place go down 
 An' jomp on hees bat' tubbe an' try go shore. 
 
 Wen he 's pass on de bat', he say "Hooraw!" 
 An' commence right away for mak' some 
 
 sing; 
 
 I 'm sure you can hear heem ten-twelve arpent 
 'Bout "Brittanie, she alway' mus' boss some- 
 t'ing." 
 
 Dat 's all I will tole you jus' now, my frien' ; 
 I s'pose you don't know de more fonny case, 
 But if Englishman go on wood again 
 
 I '11 have more storee w'en you pass my 
 place. 
 
 90
 
 WHEN ALBANI SANG 
 
 When Albani Sang v 
 
 "\X7AS workin' away on de farm dere, wan 
 
 morning not long ago, 
 Feexin' de fence for winter 'cos dat 's w'ere 
 
 we got de snow! 
 Wen Jeremie Plouffe, ma neighbor, come over 
 
 an' spik wit' me, 
 "Antoine, you will come on de city, for hear 
 
 Ma-dam All-ba-nee?" 
 
 "Wat you mean?" I was sayin' right off, me, 
 
 "Some woman was mak' de speech, 
 Or girl on de Hooraw Circus, doin' high kick 
 
 an' screech?" 
 "Non non, " he is spikin' "Excuse me, 
 
 dat 's be Ma-dam All-ba-nee 
 Was leevin' down here on de contree, two mile 
 
 'noder side Chambly. 
 
 "She's jus' comin' over from Englan', on 
 
 steamboat arrive Kebeck, 
 Singin' on Lunnon, an' Paree, an' havin' beeg 
 
 tam, I expec', 
 But no matter de moche she enjoy it, for travel 
 
 all roun' de worl', 
 Somet'ing on de heart bring her back here, for 
 
 she was de Chambly girl.
 
 WHEN ALBANI SANG 
 
 "She never do not'ing but singin* an' makin, 
 
 de beeg grande tour 
 An' travel on summer an' winter, so mus' be 
 
 de firs' class for sure! 
 Ev'ryboddy I 'm t'inkin' was know her, an' I 
 
 also hear 'noder t'ing, 
 She 's frien' on La Reine Victoria an' show her 
 
 de way to sing!" 
 
 "Wall," I say, "you're sure she is Chambly, 
 w'at you call Ma-dam All-ba-nee? 
 
 Don't know me dat nam' on de Canton I 
 hope you 're not fool wit' me?" 
 
 An' he say, "Lajeunesse, dey was call her, be- 
 fore she is come mariee, 
 
 But she 's takin' de nam' of her husban' I 
 s'pose dat 's de only way." 
 
 "C'est bon, mon ami," I was say me, "if I 
 
 get t'roo de fence nex' day 
 An' she don't want too moche on de monee, 
 
 den mebbe I see her play." 
 So I finish dat job on to-morrow, Jeremie he 
 
 was helpin' me too, 
 An' I say, "Len' me t'ree dollar quickly for 
 
 mak' de voyage wit' you. " 
 92
 
 WHEN ALBANI SANG 
 
 Correc' so we 're startin' nex' morning, an* 
 
 arrive Montreal all right, 
 Buy dollar tiquette on de bureau, an' pass on 
 
 de hall dat night. 
 Beeg crowd, wall! I bet you was dere too, all 
 
 dress on some fancy dress, 
 De lady, I don 't say not'ing, but man 's all 
 
 w'ite shirt an' no ves'. 
 
 Don't matter, w'en ban' dey be ready, de fore- 
 man strek out wit' hees steek, 
 
 An' fiddle an' ev'ryt'ing else too, begin for 
 play up de musique. 
 
 It 's fonny t'ing too dey was playin' don't lak 
 it mese'f at all, 
 
 I rader be lissen some jeeg, me, or w'at you 
 call" Afferde ball." 
 
 An' I 'm not feelin' very surprise den, w'en de 
 
 crowd holler out, "Encore," 
 For mak' all dem feller commencin' an try 
 
 leetle piece some more, 
 'Twas better wan' too, I be t'inkin', but slow 
 
 lak you 're goin' to die, 
 All de sam', noboddy say not'ing, dat mean 
 
 dey was satisfy. 
 
 93
 
 WHEN ALBANI SANG 
 
 After dat come de Grande piano, lak we got on 
 
 Chambly Hotel, 
 She 's nice lookin' girl was play dat, so of 
 
 course she 's go off purty well, 
 Den feller he 's ronne out an' sing some, it 's 
 
 all about very fine moon, 
 Dat shine on Canal, ev'ry night too, I 'm sorry 
 
 I don't know de tune. 
 
 Nex' t'ing I commence get excite, me, for I 
 
 don't see no great Ma-dam yet, 
 Too bad I was los' all dat monee, an' too late 
 
 for de raffle tiquette! 
 Wen jus' as I feel very sorry, for come all de 
 
 way from Chambly, 
 Jeremie he was w'isper, "Tiens, Tiens, prenez 
 
 garde, she's comin' Ma-dam All-ba-nee!" 
 
 Ev'ryboddy seem glad w'en dey see her, come 
 
 walkin' right down de platform, 
 An' way dey mak' noise on de han' den, w'y! 
 
 it 's jus' lak de beeg tonder storm! 
 I '11 never see not'ing lak dat, me, no matter 
 
 I travel de worl', 
 An' Ma-dam, you t 'ink it was scare her? Non, 
 
 she laugh lak de Chambly girl ! 
 94
 
 WHEN ALBANI SANG 
 
 Dere was young feller comin' behin' her, walk 
 
 nice, comme un Cavalier, 
 An' before All-ba-nee she is ready an' piano 
 
 get startin' for play, 
 De feller commence wit' hees singin' more 
 
 stronger dan all de res', 
 1 1 'ink he 's got very bad manner, know not 'ing 
 
 at all politesse. 
 
 Ma-dam, I s'pose she get mad den, an' before 
 
 anyboddy can spik, 
 She settle right down for mak' sing too, an' 
 
 purty soon ketch heem up quick, 
 Den she 's kip it on gainin' an' gainin', till de 
 
 song it is tout finis, 
 An' w'en she is beatin' dat feller, Bagosh ! I am 
 
 proud Chambly! 
 
 I 'm not very sorry at all, me, w'en de feller 
 
 was ronnin' away, 
 An' man he 's come out wit' de piccolo, an' 
 
 start heem right off for play, 
 For it 's kin' de musique I be fancy, Jeremie 
 
 he is lak it also, 
 An' wan de bes' t'ing on dat ev'ning is man 
 
 wit' de piccolo!
 
 WHEN ALBANI SANG 
 
 Den mebbe ten minute is passin', Ma-dam she 
 
 is comin' encore, 
 Dis tarn all alone on de platform, dat feller 
 
 don 't show up no more, 
 An' w'en she start off on de singin' Jeremie 
 
 say, "Antoine, dat 's Frangais," 
 Dis give us more pleasure, I tole you, 'cos 
 
 w'y? We 're de pure Canayen! 
 
 Dat song I will never forget me,' twas song of 
 
 de leetle bird, 
 W 'en he 's fly from it 's nes' on de tree top, 
 
 'fore res' of de worl' get stirred, 
 Ma-dam she was tole us about it, den start off 
 
 so quiet an' low, 
 An' sing lak de bird on de morning, de poor 
 
 leetle small oiseau. 
 
 I 'member wan tarn I be sleepin' jus' onder 
 
 some beeg pine tree 
 An song of de robin wak' me, but robin he 
 
 don't see me, 
 Dere 's not 'ing for scarin' dat bird dere, he 's 
 
 feel all alone on de worl', 
 Wall! Ma-dam she mus' lissen lak dat too, w'en 
 
 she was de Chambly girl! 
 96
 
 WHEN ALBANI SANG 
 
 'Cos how could she sing dat nice chanson, de 
 sam' as de bird I was hear, 
 
 Till I see it de maple an' pine tree an' Riche- 
 lieu ronnin' near, 
 
 Again I 'm de leetle feller, lak young colt upon 
 de spring 
 
 Dat 's jus' on de way I was feel, me, w'en Ma- 
 dam All-ba-nee is sing! 
 
 An' affer de song it is finish, an' crowd is mak' 
 
 noise wit' its han', 
 I s'pose dey be t'inkin' I 'm crazy, dat mebbe 
 
 I don't onderstan', 
 Cos I 'm set on de chair very quiet, mese'f an' 
 
 poor Jeremie, 
 An' I see dat hees eye it was cry too, jus' sam' 
 
 way it go wit' me. 
 
 Dere 's rosebush outside on our garden, ev'ry 
 
 spring it has got new nes,' 
 But only wan bluebird is buil' dere, I know her 
 
 from all de res', 
 An' no matter de far she be flyin' away on de 
 
 winter tarn, 
 Back to her own leetle rosebush she 's comin' 
 
 dere jus' de sam'. 
 7 97
 
 DE CAMP ON DE " CHEVAL GRIS " 
 
 We 're not de beeg place on our Canton, mebbe 
 
 cole on de winter, too, 
 But de heart's "Canayen" on our body, an' 
 
 dat 's-warm enough for true! 
 An' w'en All-ba-nee was got lonesome for 
 
 travel all roun' de worl' 
 I hope she '11 come home, lak de bluebird an' 
 
 again be de Chambly girl! 
 
 De Camp on de " Cheval Gris" 
 
 'member de ole log-camp, Johnnie, up 
 on de Cheval Gris, 
 Were we work so hard all winter, long ago 
 
 you an' me? 
 Dere was fourteen man on de gang, den, all 
 
 from our own paroisse, 
 
 An' only wan lef dem feller is ourse'f an' 
 Pierre Laframboise. 
 
 But Pierre can't see on de eye, Johnnie, I t'ink 
 
 it 's no good at all ! 
 An' it was n't for not'ing you 're gettin' rheu- 
 
 mateez on de leg las' fall ! 
 I t'ink it 's no use waitin', for neider can come 
 
 wit' me, 
 So alone I mak' leetle visit dat camp on de 
 
 Cheval Gris. 
 
 98
 
 DE CAMP ON DE " CHEVAL GRIS " 
 
 An' if only you see it, Johnnie, an' change dere 
 
 was all aroun', 
 Ev'ryt'ing gone but de timber an' dat is all 
 
 fallin' down; 
 No sign of portage by de reever w'ere man dey 
 
 was place canoe, 
 Wy', Johnnie, I 'm cry lak de bebe", an' I 'm 
 
 glad you don 't come, mon vieux ! 
 
 But strange t 'ing's happen me dere, Johnnie, 
 
 mebbe I go asleep, 
 As I lissen de song of de rapide, as pas' de 
 
 Longue Soo she sweep, 
 Ma head she go biz-z-z lak de sawmeel, I don't 
 
 know w'at 's wrong wit' me, 
 But firs' t'ing I don't know not'ing, an' den 
 
 w'at you t'ink I see? 
 
 Yourse'f an' res' of de boy, Johnnie, by light 
 
 of de coal oil lamp, 
 An you 're singin' an' tolin' story, sittin 
 
 aroun' de camp, 
 We hear de win' on de chimley, an' we know 
 
 it was beeg, beeg storm, 
 But ole box stove she is roarin', an' camp's 
 
 feelin' nice an' warm. 
 99
 
 DE CAMP ON DE " CHEVAL GRIS " 
 
 I t'ink you're on boar' of de raf, Johnnie, 
 
 near head of Riviere du Loup, 
 Wen LeRoy an' young Patsy Kelly get drown 
 
 comin' down de Soo, 
 Wall! I see me dem very same feller, jus' lak 
 
 you see me to-day, 
 Playin' dat game dey call checker, de game dey 
 
 was play alway! 
 
 An 1 Louis Charette asleep, Johnnie, wit' hees 
 
 back up agen de wall, 
 Makin' soche noise wit' hees nose, dat you 
 
 .t'ink it was moose on de fall, 
 I s'pose he 's de mos' fattes' man dere 'cept 
 
 mebbe Bateese La Rue, 
 But if I mak fonne on poor Louis, I know he 
 
 was good boy too! 
 
 Wat you do over dere on your bunk, Johnnie, 
 
 lightin' dem allumettes, 
 Are you shame 'cos de girl she write you, is 
 
 dat de las' wan you get ? 
 It 's fonny you can't do widout it ev'ry tarn 
 
 you was goin' bed, 
 Wy readin' dat letter so offen, you mus' have 
 
 it all on de head ! 
 
 100
 
 DE CAMP ON DE " CHEVAL GRIS " 
 
 Dat 's de very sam' letter, Johnnie, was comin* 
 
 t 'ree mont' ago, 
 I t'ink I know somet'ing about it, 'cos I fin' it 
 
 wan day on de snow, 
 An' I see on de foot dat letter, Philomene she 
 
 is do lak dis: * * * 
 I 'm not very moche on de school, me, but I 
 
 t'ink dat was mean de kiss. 
 
 Wall! nobody's kickin* de row, Johnnie, an* 
 
 if allumettes' fini, 
 Put Philomene off on your pocket, an' sing 
 
 leetle song wit' me ; 
 For don't matter de hard you be workin' tou- 
 
 jours you 're un bon garc.on, 
 An' nobody sing lak our Johnnie, Kebeck to 
 
 de Mattawa ! 
 
 An' it 's den you be let her go, Johnnie, till 
 
 roof she was mos' cave in, 
 An' if dere 's firs' prize on de singin', Bagosh! 
 
 you 're de man can win ! 
 Affer dat come fidelle of Joe Pilon, an' he 's 
 
 feller can make it play, 
 So we 're clearin' de floor right off den, for 
 
 have leetle small danser. 
 101
 
 DE CAMP ON DE " CHEVAL GRIS " 
 
 An' w'en dance she was tout finis, Johnnie, I 
 
 go de sam' bunk wit' you 
 Were we sleep lak two broder, an' dream of 
 
 de girl on Riviere du Loup, 
 Very nice ontil somebody call me, it soun' lak 
 
 de boss Pelang, 
 "Leve toi, Jeremie ma young feller, or else 
 
 you '11 be late on de gang." 
 
 An' den I am wak' up, Johnnie, an' w'ere do 
 
 you t'ink I be? 
 Dere was de wood an' mountain, dere was de 
 
 Cheval Gris, 
 But w'ere is de boy an' musique I hear only 
 
 w'ile ago? 
 Gone lak de flower las' summer, gone lak de 
 
 winter snow ! 
 
 An' de young man was bring me up, Johnnie, 
 
 dat 's son of ma boy Maxime, 
 Say, "Gran 'fader, w'at is de matter, you 
 
 havin' de bad, bad dream? 
 Come look on your face on de well dere, it 's 
 
 w'ite lak I never see, 
 Mebbe 't was better you 're stayin', an' not 
 
 go along wit' me."
 
 DE CAMP ON DE " CHEVAL GRIS" 
 
 An' w'en I look down de well, Johnnie, an* see 
 
 de ole feller dere, 
 I say on mese'f "you be makin' fou Jeremie 
 
 Chateau vert, 
 For t'ink you 're gargon agen. Ha ! ha ! jus' 
 
 'cos you are close de eye, 
 An' only commence for leevin' w'en you 're 
 
 ready almos' for die!" 
 
 Ah! dat 's how de young day pass, Johnnie, 
 
 purty moche lak de t'ing I see, 
 Sometam dey be las' leetle longer, sam' as wit* 
 
 you an' me, 
 But no matter de ole we 're leevin', de tarn 
 
 she must come some day, 
 Wen boss on de place above, Johnnie, he 's 
 
 callin' us all away. 
 
 I 'm glad I was go on de camp, Johnnie, I 
 
 t'ink it will do me good, 
 Mebbe it 's las' tarn too, for sure, I '11 never 
 
 pass on de wood, 
 For I don't expec' moche longer ole Jeremie 
 
 will be lef, 
 But about w'at I see dat day, Johnnie, tole 
 
 nobody but yourse'f. 
 103
 
 DE STOVE PIPE HOLE - 
 
 De Stove Pipe Hole 
 
 r\AT 's very cole an' stormy night on Vil- 
 
 lage St. Mathieu, 
 Wen ev'ry wan he 's go couche", an' dog was 
 
 quiet, too 
 Young Dominique is start heem out see Em- 
 
 meline Gourdon, 
 
 Was leevin' on her fader's place, Maxime de 
 Forgeron. 
 
 Poor Dominique he 's lak dat girl, an' 
 
 love her mos' de tarn, 
 An' she was mak' de promise sure some day 
 
 she be his famme, 
 But she have worse ole fader dat 's never on de 
 
 worl', 
 Was swear onless he 's riche lak diable, no 
 
 feller 's get hees girl. 
 
 He 's mak' it plaintee fuss about hees daughter 
 
 Emmeline, 
 Dat 's mebbe nice girl, too, but den, Mon Dieu, 
 
 she 's not de queen ! 
 An' w'en de young man's come aroun' for 
 
 spark it on de door, 
 An' hear de ole man swear "Bapteme!" he's 
 
 never come no more. 
 104
 
 DE STOVE PIPE HOLE 
 
 Young Dominique he 's sam' de res', was scare 
 
 for ole Maxime, 
 He don't lak risk hese'f too moche for chances 
 
 seein' heem, 
 Dat 's only stormy night he come, so dark you 
 
 cannot see, 
 An dat 's de reason w'y also, he 's climb de 
 
 gallerie. 
 
 De girl she 's waitin' dere for heem don't 
 
 care about de rain, 
 So glad for see young Dominique he 's comin' 
 
 back again, 
 Dey bote forget de ole Maxime, an' mak de 
 
 embrasser 
 An affer dey was finish dat, poor Dominique is 
 
 say 
 
 "Good-bye, dear Emmeline, good-bye; I'm 
 
 goin' very soon, 
 For you I got no better chance, dan feller on de 
 
 moon 
 It 's all de fault your fader, too, dat I be go 
 
 away, 
 He 's got no use for me at all I see dat ev'ry 
 
 day. 
 
 105
 
 DE STOVE PIPE HOLE 
 
 "He 's never meet me on de road but he is say 
 
 'SapreT 
 An' if he ketch me on de house I 'm scare he 's 
 
 killin' me, 
 So I mus' lef ole St. Mathieu, for work on 
 
 'noder place, 
 An' till I mak de beeg for-tune, you never see 
 
 ma face." 
 
 Den Emmeline say "Dominique, ma love 
 you '11 alway be 
 
 An' if you kiss me two, t'ree tam I '11 not tole 
 noboddy 
 
 But prenez garde ma fader, please, I know 
 he 's get tin' ole 
 
 All sam' he offen walk de house upon de stock- 
 in' sole. 
 
 "Good-bye, good-bye, cher Dominique! I 
 
 know you will be true, 
 I don't want no riche feller me, ma heart she 
 
 go wit' you," 
 Dat 's very quick he 's kiss her den, before de 
 
 fader come, 
 But don't get too moche pleasurement so 
 
 'fraid de ole Bonhomme. 
 1 06
 
 DE STOVE PIPE HOLE 
 
 Wall! jus' about dey 're half way t'roo wit all 
 
 dat love beez-nesse 
 Emmeline say, "Dominique, w'at for you're 
 
 scare lak all de res'? 
 Don't see mese'f moche danger now de ole man 
 
 comearoun'," 
 Wen minute affer dat, dere 's noise, lak' house 
 
 she 's fallin' down. 
 
 Den Emmeline she holler "Fire! will no wan 
 
 come for me?" 
 An Dominique is jomp so high, near bus' de 
 
 gallerie, 
 "Help! help! right off," somebody shout, 
 
 "I 'm killin' on ma place, 
 It 's all de fault ma daughter, too, dat girl 
 
 she's ma disgrace." 
 
 He 's kip it up long tarn lak dat, but not hard 
 
 tellin' now, 
 W'at 's all de noise upon de house who 's 
 
 kick heem up de row? 
 It seem Bonhomme was sneak aroun' upon de 
 
 stockin' sole, 
 An' firs' t'ing den de ole man walk right t'roo 
 
 de stove pipe hole. 
 107
 
 DE STOVE PIPE HOLE 
 
 Wen Dominique is see heem dere, wit' wan 
 
 leg hang below, 
 An' 'noder leg straight out above, he 's glad 
 
 for ketch heem so 
 De ole man can't do not'ing, den, but swear 
 
 and ax for w'y 
 Noboddy tak' heem out dat hole before he 's 
 
 comin' die. 
 
 Den Dominique he spik lak dis, "Mon cher 
 M'sieur Gourdon 
 
 I 'm not riche city feller, me, I 'm only habi- 
 tant, 
 
 But I was love more I can tole your daughter 
 Emmeline, 
 
 An' if I marry on dat girl, Bagosh ! she 's lak de 
 Queen. 
 
 "I want you mak de promise now, before it 's 
 
 come too late, 
 An' I mus' tole you dis also, dere 's not moche 
 
 tam for wait. 
 Your foot she 's hangin' down so low, I 'm 
 
 'fraid she ketch de cole, 
 Wall! if you give me Emmeline, I pull you out 
 
 de hole." 
 
 1 08
 
 DE STOVE PIPE HOLE 
 
 Dat mak' de ole man swear more hard he never 
 
 swear before, 
 An' wit' de foot he 's got above, he 's kick it 
 
 on de floor, 
 "Non, non, " he say "Sapre* tonnerre! she 
 
 never marry you, 
 An' if you don't look out you get de jail on 
 
 St. Mathieu. " 
 
 "Correc'," young Dominique is say, "mebbe 
 
 de jail 's tight place, 
 But you got wan small corner, too, I see it on 
 
 de face, 
 So if you don't lak geev de girl on wan poor 
 
 habitant, 
 Dat 's be mese'f, I say, Bonsoir, mon cher 
 
 M'sieur Gourdon. " 
 
 "Come back, come back," Maxime is shout 
 
 "I promise you de girl, 
 I never see no wan lak you no never on de 
 
 worl'! 
 It 's not de nice trick you was play on man 
 
 dat 's gettin' ole, 
 But do jus' w'at you lak, so long you pull me 
 
 out de hole." 
 
 109
 
 " DE SNOWBIRD " 
 
 "Hooraw! Hooraw!" Den Dominique is pull 
 
 heem out tout suite 
 An' Emmeline she 's helpin' too for place heem 
 
 on de feet, 
 An' affer dat de ole man 's tak' de young peep 
 
 down de stair, 
 Were he is go couch right off, an' dey go on 
 
 parloir. 
 
 Nex' Sunday morning dey was call by M'sieur 
 le Cure. 
 
 Get marry soon, an' ole Maxime geev Emme- 
 line away ; 
 
 Den affer dat dey settle down lak habitant is 
 do, 
 
 An' have de mos' fine familee on Village St. 
 Mathieu. 
 
 "De Snowbird" 
 
 LEETLE bird dat 's come to us w'en 
 stormy win' she 's blowin', 
 An' ev'ry fiel' an' mountain top is cover wit* 
 
 de snow, 
 How far from home you 're flyin', noboddy 's 
 
 never knowin' 
 
 For spen' wit' us de winter tam, mon cher 
 petit oiseau ! 
 
 no
 
 "DE SNOWBIRD" 
 
 We alway know you 're comin', w'en we hear 
 
 de firs' beeg storm, 
 A sweepin' from de sky above, an' screamin' 
 
 as she go 
 Can tell you 're safe inside it, w 'ere you 're 
 
 keepin' nice an' warm, 
 
 But no wan 's never see you dere, mon cher 
 petit oiseau! 
 
 Was it 'way behin' de mountain, dat de nort' 
 
 win' ketch you sleepin' 
 Mebbe on your leetle nes' too, an' before de 
 
 wing she grow, 
 Lif you up an' bring you dat way, till some 
 
 morning fin' you peepin' 
 Out of new nes' on de snow dreef , mon pauv' 
 petit oiseau ! 
 
 All de wood is full on summer, wit* de many 
 
 bird is sing dere, 
 Dey mus' offen know each oder, mebbe mak' 
 
 de frien' also, 
 But w 'en^ you was come on winter, never seein' 
 
 wan strange wing dere 
 
 Was it mak' you feelin' lonesome, mon pauv' 
 petit oiseau? 
 
 in
 
 " DE SNOWBIRD " 
 
 Plaintee bird is alway hidin' on some place no 
 
 wan can fin' dem, 
 But ma leetle bird of winter, dat was not de 
 
 way you go 
 For de chil'ren on de roadside, you don't seem 
 
 to care for min' dem 
 
 Wen dey pass on way to schoolhouse, mon 
 cher petit oiseau ! 
 
 No wan say you sing lak robin, but you got no 
 
 tarn for singin' 
 So busy it was keepin' you get breakfas' on 
 
 de snow, 
 But de small note you was geev us, w'en it join 
 
 de sleigh bell ringin' 
 
 Mak' de true Canadian music, mon cher petit 
 oiseau ! 
 
 O de long an' lonesome winter, if you 're never 
 
 comin' near us' 
 If we miss you on de roadside, an' on all de 
 
 place below! 
 But le bon Dieu he will sen' you troo de storm 
 
 again for cheer us, 
 
 W'en we mos' was need you here too, mon 
 cher petit oiseau! 
 
 112
 
 THE HABITANT'S JUBILEE ODE 
 
 The Habitant's Jubilee Ode 
 
 T READ on de paper mos' ev'ry day, all about 
 
 Jubilee 
 An' grande procession movin' along, an' passin' 
 
 across de sea, 
 Dat 's chil'ren of Queen Victoriaw comin' from 
 
 far away 
 For tole Madame w'at dey t'ink of her, an* 
 
 wishin' her bonne sante. 
 
 An' if any wan want to know pourquoi les 
 
 Canayens should be dere 
 Wit' res' of de worl' for shout "Hooraw" an' 
 
 t'row hees cap on de air, 
 Purty quick I will tole heem de reason, w'y we 
 
 feel lak de oder do, 
 For if I 'm only poor habitant, I 'm not on de 
 
 sapre" fou. 
 
 Of course w'en we t'ink it de firs' go off, I 
 
 know very strange it seem 
 For fader of us dey was offen die for flag of 
 
 L'Ancien Regime. 
 From day w'en de voyageurs come out all de 
 
 way from ole St. Malo, 
 Flyin' dat flag from de mas' above, an' long 
 
 affer dat also. 
 s 113
 
 THE HABITANT'S JUBILEE ODE 
 
 De English fight wit' de Frenchman den over 
 
 de whole contree, 
 Down by de reever, off on de wood, an' out on 
 
 de beeg, beeg sea, 
 Killin' an' shootin', an' raisin' row, half tam 
 
 dey don't know w'at for, 
 Wen it 's jus' as easy get settle down, not 
 
 makin' de crazy war. 
 
 Sometam' dey be quiet for leetle w'ile, you 
 
 t'ink dey don't fight no more, 
 An' den w'en dey 're feelin' all right agen, 
 
 Bang! jus' lak' she was before. 
 Very offen we 're beatin' dem on de fight, 
 
 sometam' dey can beat us, too, 
 But no feller 's scare on de 'noder man, an' 
 
 bote got enough to do. 
 
 An' all de long year she be go lak' dat, we 
 
 never was know de peace, 
 Not'ing but war from de wes' contree down to 
 
 de St. Maurice; 
 Till de las' fight 's comin' on Canadaw, an' 
 
 brave Generale Montcalm 
 Die lak' a sojer of France is die, on Battle of 
 
 Abraham. 
 
 114
 
 THE HABITANT'S JUBILEE ODE 
 
 Dat 's finish it all, an' de English King is axin' 
 
 us stayin' dere 
 Were we have sam' right as de 'noder peep 
 
 comin' from Angleterre. 
 Long tarn' for our moder so far away de poor 
 
 Canayens is cry, 
 But de new step-moder she 's good an' kin', 
 
 an' it 's all right bimeby. 
 
 If de moder come dead w 'en you 're small garcon 
 
 leavin' you dere alone, 
 Wit' nobody watchin' for fear you fall, an hurt 
 
 youse'f on de stone, 
 An' 'noder good woman she tak' your han* de 
 
 sam' your own moder do, 
 Is it right you don't call her moder, is it right 
 
 you don't love her too? 
 
 B4 non, an' dat was de way we feel, w'en de 
 ole Regime 's no more, 
 
 An' de new wan come, but don't change 
 moche, w'y it 's jus' lak' it be before. 
 
 Spikin' Frangais lak' we alway do, an' de Eng- 
 lish dey mak no fuss, 
 
 An' our law de sam', wall, I don't know me, 
 't was better mebbe for us.
 
 THE HABITANT'S JUBILEE ODE 
 
 So de sam' as two broder we settle down, 
 
 leevin' dere han' in han', 
 Knowin' each oder, we lak' each oder, de French 
 
 an' de Englishman, 
 For it 's curi's t'ing on dis worl', I 'm sure you 
 
 see it agen an' agen, 
 Dat ofEen de mos' worse ennemi, he 's comin' 
 
 de bes', bes' Men'. 
 
 So we 're kipin' so quiet long affer dat, w'en 
 
 las' of de fightin's done, 
 Dat plaintee is say, de new Canayens forget 
 
 how to shoot de gun; 
 But Yankee man 's smart, all de worl' know 
 
 dat, so he 's firs' fin' mistak' wan day 
 Wen he 's try cross de line, fusil on hee's han', 
 
 near place dey call Chateaugay. 
 
 Of course it 's bad t'ing for poor Yankee man, 
 
 De Salaberry be dere 
 Wit' habitant farmer from down below, an' 
 
 two honder Voltigeurs, 
 Dem feller come off de State, I s'pose, was 
 
 fightin' so hard dey can 
 But de blue coat sojer he don't get kill, is de 
 
 locky Yankee man! 
 116
 
 THE HABITANT'S JUBILEE ODE 
 
 Since den w'en dey're comin' on Canadaw, we 
 
 alway be treat dem well, 
 For dey 're spennin' de monee lak' gentil- 
 
 hommes, an' stay on de bes' hotel, 
 Den "Bienvenu, " we will spik dem, an' "Come 
 
 back agen nex' week, 
 So long you was kip on de quiet an' don't talk 
 
 de politique!" 
 
 Yass, dat is de way Victoriaw fin* us dis 
 
 jubilee, 
 Sometam' we mak' fuss about not'ing, but 
 
 it 's all on de familee, 
 An' w'enever dere 's danger roun' her, no 
 
 matter on sea or Ian', 
 She '11 find that les Canayens can fight de 
 
 sam' as bes' Englishman. 
 
 An' onder de flag of Angleterre, so long as 
 
 dat flag was fly 
 Wit' deir English broder, les Canayens is satisfy 
 
 leev an' die. 
 Dat 's de message our fader geev us w'en dey 
 
 're fallin' on Chateaugay, 
 An' de flag was kipin' dem safe den, dat 's de 
 
 wan we will kip alway! 
 117
 
 OLE DOCTEUR FISET 
 
 Ole Docteur Fiset 
 
 E Docteur Fiset of Saint Anicet, 
 Sapre tonnerre ! he was leev long tarn ! 
 I 'm .sure he 's got ninety year or so, 
 Beat all on de Parish 'cept Pierre Courteau, 
 An' day after day he work all de sam'. 
 
 Dat house on de hill, you can see it still, 
 
 She 's sam' place he buil' de firs' tarn' he come 
 
 Behin' it dere 's one leetle small jardin 
 
 Got plaintee de bes' tabac Canayen 
 
 Wit' fameuse apple an' beeg blue plum. 
 
 An' dey 're all right dere, for de small boy's 
 scare 
 
 No matter de apple look nice an' red, 
 For de small boy know if he 's stealin' some 
 Den Docteur Fiset on dark night he come, 
 
 An' cut leetle feller right off hees head! 
 
 JBut w'en dey was rap, an' tak' off de cap, 
 M'sieu' le Docteur he will say "Entrez, " 
 Den all de boy pass on jardin behin' 
 Were dey eat mos' ev'ryt'ing good dey fin', 
 Till dey can't go on school nearly two, free 
 day. 
 
 118
 
 OLE DOCTEUR FISET 
 
 But Docteur Fiset, not moche fonne he get, 
 
 Drivin' all over de whole contree, 
 If de road she 's bad, if de road she 's good, 
 Wen ev'ryt'ing 's drown on de Spring-tarn, 
 flood, 
 
 An' workin' for not'ing half tarn' mebbe! 
 
 Let her rain or snow, all he want to know 
 
 Is jus' if anywan 's feelin' sick, 
 For Docteur Fiset 's de ole fashion kin' 
 Doin' good was de only t'ing on hees min* 
 
 So he got no use for de politique. 
 
 An' he 's careful too, 'cos firs' t'ing he do, 
 
 For fear dere was danger some fever case, 
 Is tak' w'en he 's come leetle w'isky chaud, 
 Den 'noder wan too jus' before he go, 
 
 He 's so scare carry fever aroun' de place I 
 
 On nice summer day w'en we 're makin' 
 
 hay 
 Dere 's not 'ing more pleasant for us I 'm 
 
 sure 
 
 Dan see de ole man come joggin' along, 
 Alway singin' some leetle song, 
 
 An' hear heem say "Tiens, mes amis, Bon 
 jour!" 
 
 119
 
 OLE DOCTEUR FISET 
 
 An' w'en de cole rain was commence again 
 An' we 're sittin' at home on some warm 
 
 cornerre, 
 
 If we hear de buggy an' see de light 
 Tearin' along t'roo de black, black night, 
 
 We know right off dat 's de ole Docteur ! 
 
 An' he's smart horse sure, w'at he call "Fau- 
 bourg," 
 
 Ev'ry place on de Parish he know dem all, 
 An' you ought to see de nice way he go 
 Por fear he 's upsettin' upon de snow, 
 
 W'en ole man 's asleep on de cariole! 
 
 I 'member w'en poor Hormisdas Couture 
 
 Get sick on hees place twenty mile away 
 
 An' hees boy Ovide he was come "Raquette" 
 
 W'at you call "Snowshoe, " for Docteur Fiset, 
 
 An' Docteur he start wit' hees horse an' 
 
 sleigh. 
 
 All de night before, de beeg storm she 
 
 roar, 
 
 An' mos' of de day it 's de sam* also, 
 De drif ' was pilin' up ten feet high 
 You can't see not'ing dis side de sky, 
 Not'ing but wan avalanche of snow. 
 120
 
 OLE DOCTEUR FISET 
 
 I 'm hearin' de bell w'en I go on de well 
 
 For water de cattle on barn close by, 
 But I only ketch sight of hees cheval blanc 
 An' hees coonskin coat wit' de capuchon 
 An' de storm tak' heem off, jus' de sam' he fly. 
 
 Mus' be le Bon Dieu dat is help him t'roo, 
 Ole Docteur Fiset an' hees horse "Fau- 
 bourg," 
 'T was somet'ing for splain-me, wall I don't 
 
 care, 
 
 But somehow or 'noder he 's gettin' dere, 
 An' save de life Hormisdas Couture. 
 
 But it 's sam' alway, lak' dat ev'ry day, 
 
 He never was spare hese'f pour nous autres, 
 
 He don't mak' moche monee, Docteur Fiset, 
 
 An' off en de only t'ing he was get 
 
 Is de prayer of poor man, an' wan bag of oat. 
 
 Wall ! Docteur Fiset of Saint Anicet 
 
 He is not dead yet ! an' I 'm purty sure 
 If you 're passin' dat place about ten year more 
 You will see heem go roun' lak he go before 
 Wit' de ole cariole an' hees horse "Fau- 
 bourg!" 
 
 121
 
 JOHNNIE COURTEAU 
 
 Johnnie Courteau 
 
 JOHNNIE COURTEAU of de mountain 
 Johnnie Courteau of de hill 
 Dat was v de boy can shoot de gun 
 Dat was de boy can jomp an' run 
 An' it 's not very offen you ketch heem still 
 
 Johnnie Courteau! 
 
 Ax dem along de reever 
 
 Ax dem along de shore 
 
 Who was de mos' bes' fightin' man 
 
 From Managance to Shaw-in-i-gan? 
 
 De place w'ere de great beeg rapide roar, 
 
 Johnnie Courteau! 
 
 Sam' t'ing on ev'ry shaintee 
 
 Up on de Mekinac 
 
 Who was de man can walk de log, 
 
 W'en w'ole of de reever she 's black wit' fog 
 
 An' carry de beeges' load on hees back? 
 
 Johnnie Courteau! 
 
 On de rapide you want to see heem 
 
 If de raf she 's swingin' roun' 
 
 An' he 's yellin' "Hooraw Bateese! good man!" 
 
 W'y de oar come double on hees han' 
 
 W'en he 's makin' dat raf go flyin' down 
 
 Johnnie Courteau! 
 
 122
 
 JOHNNIE COURTEAU 
 
 An' Tete de Boule chief can tole you 
 
 De feller w'at save hees life 
 
 Wen beeg moose ketch heem up a tree 
 
 Who 's shootin' dat moose on de head, sapree! 
 
 An' den run off wit' hees Injun wife? 
 
 Johnnie Courteau I 
 
 An' he only have pike pole wit' heem 
 On Lac a la Tortue 
 
 Wen he meet de bear comin' down de hill 
 But de bear very soon is get hees fill ! 
 An' he sole dat skin for ten dollar too, 
 
 Johnnie Courteau! 
 
 Oh he never was scare for not 'ing 
 
 Lak de ole coureurs de bois, 
 
 But w'en he 's gettin' hees winter pay 
 
 De bes' t'ing sure is kip out de way 
 
 For he 's goin' right off on de Hip Hooraw! 
 
 Johnnie Courteau! 
 
 Den pullin' hees sash aroun' heem 
 
 He dance on hees botte sauvage 
 
 An' shout "All aboar' if you want to fight!" 
 
 Wall ! you never can see de finer sight 
 
 Wen he go lak dat on de w'ole village! 
 
 Johnnie Courteau! 
 123
 
 JOHNNIE COURTEAU 
 
 But Johnnie Courteau get marry 
 
 On Philomene Beaurepaire 
 
 She 's nice leetle girl was run de school 
 
 On w'at you call Parish of Sainte Ursule 
 
 An' he see her off on de pique-nique dere 
 
 Johnnie Courteau! 
 
 Den somet'ing come over Johnnie 
 Wen he marry on Philomene 
 For he stay on de farm de w'ole year roun' 
 He chop de wood an' he plough de groun' 
 An' he 's quieter feller was never seen, 
 
 Johnnie Courteau! 
 
 An' ev'ry wan feel astonish 
 
 From La Tuque to Shaw-in-i-gan 
 
 Wen dey hear de news was goin' aroun' 
 
 Along on de reever up an' down 
 
 How wan leetle woman boss dat beeg man 
 
 Johnnie Courteau t 
 
 He never come out on de evening 
 
 No matter de hard we try 
 
 'Cos he stay on de kitchen an' sing hees song 
 
 "A la claire fontaine, 
 
 M'en allant promener, 
 
 J'ai trouve* 1'eau si belle 
 124
 
 THE CORDUROY ROAD 
 
 Que je m'y suis baigner ! 
 
 Lui y'a longtemps que je t'aime 
 
 Jamais je ne t'oublierai." 
 
 Rockin' de cradle de w'ole night long 
 Till baby 's asleep on de sweet bimeby 
 
 Johnnie Courteau! 
 
 An' de house, wall! I wish you see it 
 
 De place she 's so nice an* clean 
 
 Mus' wipe your foot on de outside door, 
 
 You 're dead man sure if you spit on de floor, 
 
 An' he never say not'ing on Philomene, 
 
 Johnnie Courteau! 
 
 An' Philomene watch de monee 
 
 An' put it all safe away 
 
 On very good place; I dunno w'ere 
 
 But anyhow nobody see it dere 
 
 So she 's buyin' new farm de noder day 
 
 MADAME Courteau ! 
 
 The Corduroy Road 
 
 r\E corduroy road go bompety bomp, 
 
 De corduroy road go jompety jomp, 
 An' he 's takin' beeg chances upset hees load 
 De horse dat '11 trot on de corduroy road. 
 125
 
 THE CORDUROY ROAD 
 
 Of course it 's purty rough, but it 's handy t'ing 
 
 enough 
 
 An' dey mak' it wit' de log all jine togeder 
 Wen dey strek de swampy groun' w'ere de water 
 
 hang aroun' 
 Or passin' by some tough ole beaver medder. 
 
 But it 's not macadamize, so if you 're only 
 
 wise 
 
 You will tak' your tarn an' never min' de worry 
 For de corduroy is bad, an' will mak' you plaintee 
 
 mad 
 By de way de buggy jomp, in case you hurry. 
 
 An' I 'm sure you don't expec' leetle Victorine 
 
 Leveque 
 
 She was knowin' moche at all about dem places, 
 'Cos -she 's never dere before, till young Zeph- 
 
 irin Madore 
 He was takin' her away for see de races. 
 
 O, I wish you see her den, dat 's before she marry, 
 
 w'en 
 
 She 's de fines' on de Ian' but no use talkin' 
 I can bet you w'at you lak, if you meet her you 
 
 look back 
 
 Jus' to watch de fancy way dat girl is walkin'. 
 126
 
 THE CORDUROY ROAD 
 
 Yass de leetle Victorine was de nices' girl between 
 
 De town of Yamachiche an' Maskinonge", 
 
 But she 's stuck up an' she 's proud, an' you '11 
 
 never count de crowd 
 Of de boy she geev' it w'at dey call de conge". 
 
 Ah! de moder spoil her sure, for even Joe 
 
 D' Amour 
 Wen he 's ready nearly ev'ry t'ing to geev 
 
 her 
 If she mak' de marine, only say, "please go 
 
 away" 
 An' he 's riches habitant along de reever. 
 
 Zephirin he try it too, an' he 's workin' some- 
 
 t'ing new 
 
 For he 's makin' de ole woman many presen* 
 Prize package on de train, umbrella for de 
 
 rain 
 But she 's grompy all de tarn, an' never pleasan'. 
 
 Wall, w'en he ax Ma-dame tak' de girl a,vay dat 
 
 tarn 
 
 See dem races on Sorel wit' all de trotter 
 De moder say "All right if you bring her home 
 
 to-night 
 
 Before de cow's milk, I let her go, rria daughter." 
 127
 
 THE CORDUROY ROAD 
 
 So Victorine she go wit' Zephirin her beau 
 On de yankee buggy mak' it on St. Bruno 
 An' w'en dey pass hotel on de middle of Sorel 
 Dey 're puttin' on de beeges' style dat you 
 know. 
 
 Wall! dey got some good horse dere, but Zeph- 
 irin don't care 
 
 He 's back it up hees own paroisse, ba golly, 
 
 An' he mak' it t'ree doll-arre w'en Maskinonge" 
 Star 
 
 On de two mile heat was beatin' Sorel Molly. 
 
 Victorine don't min' at all, till de "free for all" 
 
 dey call 
 Dat 's de las' race dey was run before de snow 
 
 fly 
 Den she say "I t'ink de cow mus' be gettin' 
 
 home soon now 
 An' you know it 's only clock ole woman go by. 
 
 "An* if we 're comin' late w'en de cow pass on 
 
 de gate 
 You '11 be sorry if you hear de way she talk 
 
 dere, 
 
 So w'en I see de race on Sorel or any place 
 Affer dis, you may be sure I got to walk dere." 
 128
 
 THE CORDUROY ROAD 
 
 Den he laugh dat Zephirin, an' he say "Your 
 
 poor mama 
 
 I know de pile she t'ink about her daughter 
 So we '11 tak' de short road back on de corduroy 
 
 race track 
 Don't matter if we got to sweem de water." 
 
 No wonder he is smile till you hear heem half a 
 
 mile 
 
 For dat morning he was tole hees leetle broder 
 Let de cattle out de gate, so he know it 's purty 
 
 late 
 By de tarn dem cow was findin' out each oder. 
 
 So along de corduroy de young girl an' de boy 
 
 Dey was kipin' up a joggin' nice an' steady 
 
 It is n't heavy load, an' Guillaume he know de 
 
 road 
 For many tam he 's been dat way already. 
 
 But de girl she fin' it slow, so she ax de boy to 
 
 go 
 
 Somet'ing better dan a mile on fifteen minute 
 An' he 's touch heem up Guillaume; so dat 
 
 horse he lay for home 
 An' de nex' t'ing Victorine she know she 's 
 
 in it. 
 
 O I2Q
 
 THE CORDUROY ROAD 
 
 "O, pull him in," she yell, "for even on Sorel 
 
 I am sure I never see de quicker racer," 
 
 But it 's leetle bit too late, for de horse is get 
 
 hees gait 
 An' de worse of all ba gosh ! Guillaume 's a pacer. 
 
 See hees tail upon de air, no wonder she was scare 
 But she hang on lak de winter on T'ree Reever. 
 Cryin' out "please hoi' me tight, or I 'm comin 
 
 dead to-night 
 An' ma poor ole moder dear, I got to leave her." 
 
 Wit' her arm aroun' hees wais' ; she was doin' 
 
 it in case 
 She bus' her head, or keel herse'f, it 's not so 
 
 easy sayin' 
 Dey was comin' on de jomp t'roo dat dam ole 
 
 beaver swamp 
 An' meet de crowd is lookin' for dem cow was go 
 
 a-strayin'. 
 
 Den she 's cryin', Victorine, for she 's knowin* 
 
 w'at it mean 
 De parish dey was talkin' firse chances dey be 
 
 get tin', 
 But no sooner dat young man stop de horse, he 
 
 tak' her han' 
 An' w'isper "never min', ma chere, won't do no 
 
 good a-frettin'." 
 
 130
 
 THE CURE OF CALUMETTE 
 
 Non! she is n't cryin' long, for he tole her it was 
 
 wrong 
 She 's sure he save her life too, or she was moche 
 
 mistaken, 
 An' de ole Ma-dame Leveque also kiss heem on 
 
 de neck 
 An' quickly after dat Hooraw! de man an' wife 
 
 dey 're makin'. 
 
 The Cure of Calumette 
 
 [The Cure 1 of a French Canadian parish, when summoned 
 to the bedside of a dying member of his flock, always carries 
 in his buggy or sleigh a bell. This bell serves two purposes : 
 first, it has the effect of clearing a way for the passage of 
 the good priest's vehicle, and, secondly, it calls to prayer 
 those of the faithful who are within hearing of its solemn 
 tones.] 
 
 r\ERE 's no voyageur on de reever never run 
 
 hees canoe d'ecorce 
 T'roo de roar an' de rush of de rapide, w'ere it 
 
 jump lak a beeg w'ite horse, 
 Dere 's no hunter man on de prairie, never wear 
 
 w'at you call racquette 
 
 Can beat leetle Fader O'Hara, de Curd of 
 Calumette.
 
 THE CURE OF CALUMETTE 
 
 Hees fader is full-blooded Irish, an' hees moder 
 
 is pure Canayenne, 
 Not off en dat stock go togedder, but she 's fine 
 
 combination ma frien' 
 For de Irish he 's full of de devil, an' de French 
 
 dey got savoir faire, 
 Dat 's mak' it de very good balance an' tak' 
 
 you mos' ev'ry w'ere. 
 
 But dere 's wan t'ing de Cure* wont stan' it ; mak' 
 
 fun on de Irlandais 
 An' of course on de French we say not'ing, 'cos de 
 
 parish she 's all Canayen, 
 Den you see on account of de moder, he can't 
 
 spik hese'f very moche, 
 So de ole joke she 's all out of fashion, an' wan 
 
 of dem t'ing we don't touch. 
 
 Wall! wan of dat kin' is de Cure", but w'en he be 
 
 comin' our place 
 De peop' on de parish all w'isper, "How young 
 
 he was look on hees face ; 
 Too bad if de wedder she keel heem de firse tarn 
 
 he got leetle wet, 
 An' de Bishop might sen' beeger Cure", for it 's 
 
 purty tough place, Calumette!" 
 132
 
 THE CURE OF CALUMETTE 
 
 Ha ! ha ! how I wish I was dere, me, w'en he go on 
 
 de mission call 
 9n de shaintee camp way up de reever, drivin' 
 
 hees own cariole, 
 An' he meet blaggar' feller been drinkin', jus* 
 
 enough mak' heem ack lak fou, 
 Joe Vadeboncoeur, dey was call heem, an' he 's 
 
 purty beeg feller too! 
 
 Mebbe Joe he don't know it 's de Cure', so he 's 
 
 hollerin', "Get out de way, 
 If you don't geev me whole of de roadside, 
 
 sapree! you go off on de sleigh." 
 But de Cure* he never say not'ing, jus' poule on 
 
 de line leetle bit, 
 An' w'en Joe try for kip heem hees promise, hees 
 
 nose it get badly hit. 
 
 Maudit! he was strong leetle Curd, an' he go for 
 Jo-zeph en masse 
 
 An' w'en he is mak' it de finish, poor Joe is n't 
 feel it firse class, 
 
 So nex' tam de Curd he 's goin' for visit de shain- 
 tee encore 
 
 Of course he was mak' beeges' mission never see 
 on dat place before.
 
 THE CURE OF CALUMETTE 
 
 An' he know more, I 'm sure dan de lawyer, an 1 
 
 dere 's many poor habitant 
 Is glad for see Fader O'Hara, an' ax w'at he t'ink 
 
 of de law 
 Wen dey get leetle troub' wit' each oder, an' 
 
 don't know de bes' t'ing to do, 
 Dat 's makin' dem save plaintee monee, an' kip 
 
 de good neighbor too. 
 
 But w'en we fin' out how he paddle till canoe she 
 
 was nearly fly 
 An' travel racquette on de winter, w'en snow- 
 
 dreef is pilin' up high 
 For visit some poor man or woman dat 's waitin' 
 
 de message of peace, 
 An' get dem prepare for de journey, we 're proud 
 
 on de leetle pries' ! 
 
 ! many dark night w'en de chil'ren is put away 
 
 safe on de bed 
 An' mese'f an' ma femme mebbe sittin' an 
 
 watchin' de small curly head 
 We hear somet'ing else dan de roar of de tender, 
 
 de win' an' de rain; 
 So we 're bote passin' out on de doorway, an' 
 
 lissen an' lissen again.
 
 THE CURE OF CALUMETTE 
 
 An' it 's lonesome for see de beeg cloud sweepin' 
 across de sky 
 
 An' lonesome for hear de win' cryin' lak some- 
 body 's goin' to die, 
 
 But de soun' away down de valley, creepin' 
 aroun' de hill 
 
 All de tarn gettin' closer, closer, dat 's de soun' 
 mak' de heart stan' still ! 
 
 It 's de bell of de leetle Cure", de music of deat' 
 we hear, 
 
 Along on de black road ringin', an' soon it was 
 comin' near 
 
 Wan minute de face of de Cure" we see by de lan- 
 tern light, 
 
 An' he 's gone from us, jus' lak a shadder, into de 
 stormy night. 
 
 An' de buggy rush down de hill side an' over de 
 
 bridge below, 
 Were creek run so high on de spring-tarn, w'en 
 
 mountain t'row off de snow, 
 An' so long as we hear heem goin', we kneel on de 
 
 floor an' pray 
 Dat God will look affer de Cure", an' de poor soul 
 
 dat 's passin' away.
 
 THE CURE OF CALUMETTE 
 
 I dunno if he need our prayer, but we geev' it 
 
 heem jus' de sam', 
 For w'en a man 's doin' hees duty lak de Cure do 
 
 all de tam 
 Never min' all de t'ing may happen, no matter 
 
 he 's riche or poor 
 Le bon Dieu was up on de heaven, will look 
 
 out for dat man, I 'm sure. 
 
 I 'm only poor habitant farmer, an' mebbe know 
 
 not'ing at all, 
 But dere 's wan t'ing I 'm alway wishin', an' 
 
 dat 's w'en I get de call 
 For travel de far-away journey, ev'ry wan on de 
 
 worl' mus' go 
 He '11 be wit' me de leetle Cure" 'fore I 'm leffin 
 
 dis place below. 
 
 For I know I '11 be feel more easy, if he 's sittin' 
 
 dere by de bed 
 An' he '11 geev' me de good-bye message, an' 
 
 place hees han' on ma head, 
 Den I '11 hoi' if he '11 only let me, dat han' till 
 
 de las' las' breat' 
 An' bless leetle Fader O'Hara, de Cure" of 
 
 Calumette. 
 
 136
 
 THE OYSTER SCHOONER 
 
 The Oyster Schooner 
 
 \\7"'AT 's all dem bell a ringin' for, can hear 
 
 dem ev'ry w'ere? 
 Wat 's bring de peop' togeder on de w'arf at 
 
 Trois Rivieres, 
 Dat happy crowd is look so glad, w'y are dey 
 
 comin' dere? 
 O ! de reason dey 're so happy w'ile dey 're 
 
 waitin' dere to-day 
 Is becos de oyster schooner she 's sailin' up de 
 
 bay 
 An' de caraquette an' malpecque will quickly 
 
 melt away 
 Affer she was t'row de anchor on T'ree Reever- 
 
 For w'y dey mak' de fuss lak dat, an' nearly 
 
 broke deir neck, 
 Ain't dey got de noder oyster more better dan 
 
 malpecque 
 Or caraquette, dat leetle wan from down below 
 
 Kebeck? 
 Wall! ax de crowd dat question w'ile dey 're 
 
 waitin' dere to-day, 
 
 So glad to see "La Belle Marie" sailin' up de bay, 
 An' dey '11 drown you on de water, so you '11 
 
 know about de way 
 She was t'rowin' out de anchor on T'ree Reever.
 
 THE OYSTER SCHOONER 
 
 Dere 's ole Joe Lachapelle, he 's blin', can hardly 
 
 see at all, 
 He 's bring de man got wooden leg call Jimmie 
 
 Sauriol, 
 An' bote dem feller jomp aroun' lak mooshrat on 
 
 de fall, 
 For dey know de schooner 's comin', she 's sailin' 
 
 up de bay, 
 An' de reason she don't hurry w'ile dey 're 
 
 waitin' dere to-day, 
 Is becos she 's full of oyster, will quickly pass 
 
 away 
 Wen dat schooner t'row de anchor on T'rce 
 
 Reever. 
 
 We 've trottin' race las' winter, an' circus on de 
 
 spring, 
 Wit' elephan' an 1 monkey too, all playin' en de 
 
 ring, 
 But beeger crowd she 's comin' now, for w'y? it 's 
 
 differen' t'ing, 
 For dey 're waitin' on dat schooner, she 's sailin' 
 
 up de bay 
 Dey smell de malpecque oyster an' caraqiiette 
 
 to-day 
 An' O ! ba gosh, dey '11 eat dem ! it 's alway be de 
 
 way 
 W'en dat schooner t'row de anchor on T'ree 
 
 Reever. 
 
 138
 
 THE OYSTER SCHOONER 
 
 "She 's comin' in she 's comin' in," jus' lissen 
 
 to de cry ! 
 "Get out de line an' hoi' her fas', for fear she 's 
 
 passin' by, 
 For if dere 's somet'ing happen now, de peop' will 
 
 surely die." 
 Affer waitin' on dat schooner, she 's sailin' up de 
 
 bay 
 Lak de sparrow on de wood-pile watchin' all de 
 
 day, 
 But dey got her safe enough now, she '11 never sail 
 
 away 
 Till dem oyster she was finish on T'ree Reever. 
 
 "All aboar' comment ca va, Captinne Beli- 
 
 veau? 
 We 're glad to see you back again from Cara- 
 
 quette below, 
 But we 're sorry you don't hurry, w'en you got 
 
 such nice car-go." 
 So dey ketch dat oyster schooner, she 's sailin' 
 
 up de bay, 
 Dey ketch her an' dey hoi' her till de oyster 's 
 
 gone away 
 An' she 's two foot out de water "La Belle Marie" 
 
 nex' day 
 
 Affer she was t'row de anchor on T'ree Reever. 
 139
 
 MY LEETLE CABANE 
 
 My Leetle Cabane 
 
 f 'M sittin' to-night on ma leetle cabane, more 
 happier dan de king, 
 
 An' ev'ry corner 's ringin' out wit' musique de 
 ole stove sing 
 
 I hear de cry of de winter win', for de storm- 
 gate 's open wide 
 
 But I don't care not'ing for win' or storni, so long 
 I was safe inside. 
 
 Viens 'ci, mon chien, put your head on dere,. 
 
 let your nose res' on ma knee 
 You 'member de tarn we chase de moose back on 
 
 de Lac Souris 
 An' de snow come down an' we los' ourse'f till 
 
 mornin' is bring de light, 
 You t'ink we got place to sleep, mon chien, lak 
 
 de place we got here to-night 
 
 Onder de roof of de leetle cabane, w'ere fire 
 
 she 's blazin' high 
 An' bed I mak' of de spruce tree branch, is lie on 
 
 de floor close by, 
 O! I lak de smell of dat nice fresh bed, an' I 
 
 dream of de summer tarn 
 An' de spot w'ere de beeg trout jomp so moche 
 
 down by de lumber dam. 
 140
 
 MY LEETLE CABANE 
 
 But lissen dat win', how she scream outside, 
 
 mak me t'ink of de loup garou, 
 W'y to-night, mon chien, I be feelin' glad if even 
 
 de carcajou 
 Don't ketch hese'f on de trap I set to-day on de 
 
 Lac Souris 
 Let heem wait till to-morrow, an' den if he lak, 
 
 I geev heem good chance, sapree! 
 
 I see beeg cloud w'en I 'm out to-day, off on de 
 
 nor'-eas' sky, 
 An' she block de road, so de cloud behin', don't 
 
 get a chance passin' by, 
 An' I t'ink of boom on de grande riviere, w'en 
 
 log 's fillin' up de bay, 
 Wall! sam' as de boom on de spring-tarn flood, 
 
 dat cloud she was sweep away. 
 
 Dem log 's very nice an* quiet, so long as de 
 
 boom 's all right, 
 But soon as de boom geev way, 1'enfant! it 's 
 
 den is begin de fight. 
 Dey run de rapide, an' jomp de rock, dey leap on 
 
 de air an' dive, 
 Can hear dem roar from de reever shore, jus' 
 
 lak dey was all alive. 
 141
 
 MY LEETLE CABANE 
 
 An' dat was de way wit' de cloud to-day, de res' 
 
 of dem push aside, 
 For dey 're comin' fas' from de cole nor'-eas' an' 
 
 away t'roo de sky dey ride 
 Shakin' de snow as along dey go, lak grain from 
 
 de farmer's han' 
 Till to-morrow you can't see not'ing at all, but 
 
 smoke of de leetle cabane. 
 
 I 'm glad we don't got no chimley, only hole on 
 
 de roof up dere, 
 An' spark fly off on w'ole of de worl', so dere 's 
 
 no use gettin' scare, 
 Mus' get more log! an' it 's lucky too, de wood 
 
 pile is stannin' near 
 So blow away storm, for harder you go, de 
 
 warmer she 's comin' here 
 
 I wonder how dey get on, mon chieri, off on de 
 
 great beeg town, 
 Were house is so high, near touch de sky, mus' 
 
 be danger of fallin' down. 
 An' worser too on de night lak dis, ketchin' dat 
 
 terrible win', 
 O! leetle small place lak de ole cabane was de 
 
 right place for stay in' in. 
 142
 
 MY LEETLE CABANE 
 
 I s'pose dey got plaintee bodder too, dem feller 
 
 dat 's be riche man, 
 For dey 're never knowin' w'en t'ief may come 
 
 an' steal all de t'ing he can 
 An' de monee was kip dem busy too, watchin' 
 
 it night an' day, 
 Dunno but we 're better off here, mon chien, wit' 
 
 beeg city far away. 
 
 For I look on de corner over dere, an' see it ma 
 
 birch canoe, 
 I look on de wall w'ere ma rifle hang along wit' 
 
 de good snowshoe, 
 An' ev'ry t'ing else on de worl' I got, safe on dis 
 
 place near me. 
 An' here you are too, ma brave old dog, wit' 
 
 your nose up agen ma knee. 
 
 An' here we be stay t'roo de summer day, w'en 
 
 ev'ry t'ing 's warm an' bright 
 On winter too w'en de stormy win' blow lak she 
 
 blow to-night 
 Let dem stay on de city, on great beeg house, 
 
 dem feller dat 's be riche man 
 For we 're happy an' satisfy here, mon chien, on 
 
 our own leetle small cabane. 
 143
 
 BATEESE THE LUCKY MAN 
 
 Bateese the Lucky Man 
 
 11TE 's alway ketchin' dore, an' he 's alway 
 
 ketchin' trout 
 
 On de place w'ere no wan else can ketch at all 
 He 's alway ketchin' barbotte, dat 's w'at you 
 
 call bull-pout, 
 An' he never miss de wiT duck on de fall. 
 
 O! de pa'tridge do some skippin' w'en she see 
 
 heem on de swamp 
 For she know Bateese don't go for not'ing 
 
 dere, 
 An' de rabbit if he 's comin', wall! you ought to 
 
 see heem jomp. 
 W'y he want to climb de tree he feel so scare. 
 
 Affer two hour by de reever I hear hees leetle song 
 Den I meet heem all hees pocket full of snipe, 
 
 An' me, I go de sam' place, an' I tramp de w'ole 
 
 day long 
 An' I 'm only shootin' two or t'ree, Ba Cripe! 
 
 I start about de sun-rise, an' I put out ma decoy, 
 
 An' I see Bateese he sneak along de shore, 
 An' before it 's comin' breakfas', he 's holler on 
 
 hees boy 
 
 For carry home two dozen duck or more. 
 144
 
 THE HILL OF ST. SEBASTIEN 
 
 An' I 'm freezin' on de blin' me from four 
 
 o'clock to nine 
 
 An' ev'ry duck she 's passin' up so high. 
 Dere 's blue-bill an' butter-ball, an' red-head, 
 
 de fines' kin 
 An' I might as well go shootin' on de sky. 
 
 Don't see de noder feller lak Bateese was lucky 
 
 man, 
 
 He can ketch de smartes' feesh is never sweem, 
 An' de bird he seldom miss dem, let dem try de 
 
 hard dey can 
 
 W'y de eagle on de mountain can't fly away 
 from heem. 
 
 But all de bird, an' feesh too, is geev' up feelin' 
 
 scare, 
 
 An' de rabbit he can stay at home in bed, 
 Por he feesh an' shoot no longer, ole Jean 
 
 Bateese Belair, 
 'Cos he 's dead. 
 
 The Hill of St. Sebastien 
 
 T OUGHT to feel more satisfy an' happy dan 
 A I be, 
 
 For better husban' dan ma own, it 's very hard 
 to fin' 
 
 10 145
 
 THE HILL OF ST. SEBASTIEN 
 
 An' plaintee woman if dey got such boy an' girl 
 
 as me 
 Would never have no troub' at all, an' not'ing 
 
 on deir min' 
 But w'ile dey 're alway wit' me, 'an' dough I love 
 
 dem all 
 I can't help t'inkin' w'en I watch de chil'ren 
 
 out at play 
 Of tarn I 'm just' lak dat mese'f, an' den de tear 
 
 will fall 
 For de hill of St. Sebastien is very far away ! 
 
 It seem so pleasan' w'en I come off here ten year 
 
 ago 
 ' An' hardes' work I 'm gettin' den, was never 
 
 heavy load, 
 De roughes' place is smoot' enough, de quickes* 
 
 gait is slow 
 For glad I am to foller w'ere Louis lead de 
 
 road 
 But somet'ing 's comin' over me, I feel it more 
 
 an' more 
 It 's alway pullin' on de heart, an' stronger 
 
 ev'ry day, 
 An' O! I long to see again de reever an' de 
 
 shore 
 
 W'ere de hill of St. Sebastien is lookin' on. 
 de bay ! 
 
 146
 
 THE HILL OF ST. SEBASTIEN 
 
 I use to t'ink it f s fine t'ing once, to stan' upon 
 
 de door 
 An' see de great beeg medder dere, stretchin* 
 
 far an' wide, 
 An' smell de pleasan' flower dat grow lak star 
 
 on de prairie floor, 
 An' watch de spotted antelope was feedin' 
 
 ev'ry side, 
 How did we gain it, man an' wife, dis Ian' was. 
 
 no man's Ian'? 
 By rifle, an' harrow an' plow, shovel an' spade 
 
 an' hoe 
 De blessin* of good God up above, an' work of our 
 
 own strong han' 
 
 Till it stan' on de middle, our leetle nes', w'ere 
 de wheat an' cornfiel' grow. 
 
 An' soon de chil'ren fill de house, wit' musique 
 
 all day long, 
 De sam' ma moder use to sing on de cradle over 
 
 me, 
 I 'm almos' sorry it 's be ma fault dey learn dem 
 
 ole tarn song 
 Wat good is it tak' me off lak dat back on ma 
 
 own con tree? 
 Till de reever once more I see again, an' lissen 
 
 its current flow 
 
 An' dere 's Hercule de ferry man comin' across, 
 de bay!
 
 THE HILL OF ST. SEBASTIEN 
 
 Wat 's use of foolin' me lak dat? for surely I 
 
 mus' know 
 De hill of St. Sebastien is very far away! 
 
 Wen Louis ketch me dat summer night watchin' 
 
 de sky above, 
 Seein' de mountain an' de lake, wit' small boat 
 
 sailin' roun' 
 He kiss me an' say "Toinette, I 'm glad dis 
 
 prairie Ian' you love 
 For travel de far you can, ma belle, it 's fines' 
 
 on top de groun'!" 
 
 Jus' w'en I 'm lookin' dat beeg cloud too, stand- 
 in' dere lak a wall! 
 Sam' as de hill I know so well, home on ma own 
 
 contree, 
 Good job I was cryin' quiet den, an' Louis can't 
 
 hear at all 
 
 But I kiss de poor feller an' laugh, an' never 
 say not'ing me. 
 
 Wat can you do wit' man lak dat, an' w'y am 
 
 I bodder so? 
 De firse t'ing he might fin' it out, den hees 
 
 heart will feel it sore 
 An' if he say "Come home Toinette," I 'm sure 
 
 I mus' answer "No," 
 
 For if I 'm seem' dat place again, I never 
 return no more ! 
 
 148
 
 MARIE LOUISE 
 
 So let de heart break I don't care, I won't 
 
 say not'ing me 
 I '11 mak' dat promise on mese'f, an' kip it 
 
 night an' day 
 But O! Mon Dieu! how glad, how glad, an* 
 
 happy I could be 
 If de hill of St. Sebastien was not so far away ! 
 
 Marie Louise 
 
 r\IS was de story of boy an' girl 
 
 Dat 's love each oder above de worl' 
 But it 's not easy job for mak' 1'amour 
 Wen de girl she 's riche an' de boy he 's poor 
 All de sam' he don't worry an' she don't cry, 
 But wait for good chances come bimeby. 
 
 Young Marie Louise Hurtubuise 
 
 Was leev wit' her moder la veuve Denise 
 
 On fines' house on de w'ole chemin 
 
 From Caribou reever to St. Germain 
 
 For ole woman 's boss on de grande moulin. 
 
 Were dere 's nice beeg dam, water all de tarn 
 An' season t'roo runnin' jus' de sam' 
 Wit' good leetle creek comin' off de hill 
 Was helpin' de reever for work de mill 
 So de grande moulin she is never still. 
 149
 
 MARIE LOUISE 
 
 No wonder Denise she was hard to please 
 Wen de boy come sparkin' Marie Louise 
 For affer de foreman Bazile is pay 
 De mill she 's bringin' t'ree dollar a day 
 An' for makin' de monee, dat 's easy way. 
 
 An' de girl Marie, O ! she 's tres jolie, 
 Jompin' aroun lak de summer bee 
 She 's never short plaintee t'ing to do 
 An' mebbe she ketch leetle honey too, 
 'Cos she 's jus' as sweet as de morning dew. 
 
 An' w'en she was dress on her Sunday bes' 
 An' walk wit' her moder on seconde messe 
 Dere 's not'ing is bring de young man so fas' 
 An' dey stan' on door of church en masse 
 So res' of de peop' dey can hardly pass. 
 
 An' she know musique, 'cos on Chris'mas week 
 Wen organ man on de church is sick 
 (S'pose he got de grippe) dat girl she play 
 Lak college professor, de pries' is say 
 Till de place it was crowd nearly ev'ry day. 
 
 Ole Cure Belair of St. Pollinaire, 
 Dat 's parish ten mile noder side riviere, 
 If he 's not gettin' mad, it was funny t'ing 
 W'en hees young man fly lak bird on de wing 
 Wit' nobody lef behin' to sing. 
 150
 
 MARIE LOUISE 
 
 An' nex' t'ing dey know it 's comin' so 
 Dat mos' of de girl she got no beau, 
 An' of course dat 's makin' de jealousie 
 For w'en de young feller he see Marie 
 He see not'ing else on hees eye, sapree! 
 
 Mus' be somet'ing done sure as de gun, 
 
 It 's all very well for de boy have fun 
 
 But dere 's noder t'ing too, must n't be forget, 
 
 Dere 's two fine parish dat 's all upset 
 
 An' mebbe de troub' is n't over yet. 
 
 So ev'ry wan say de only way 
 
 Is gettin' young Marie Louise marine, 
 
 Den dey have beeg meetin' on magasin, 
 
 Were he sit on de chair Aleck Sanschagrin, 
 
 An' dey 'point heem for go on de grande moulin. 
 
 But w'en Aleck come dere for arrange affaire, 
 Ole Madame Dcnise she was mak' heem scare 
 For jus' on de minute she see hees face 
 She know right away all about de case 
 An' she tole Bazile t'row heem off de place. 
 
 Now de young Bazile he was t'ink good deal 
 Of Marie Louise an' he 's ready for keel 
 Any feller come foolin' aroun' de door 
 So he kick dat man till he 's, feelin' sore, 
 An' Aleck he never go back no more.
 
 MARIE LOUISE 
 
 If it 's true w'at dey say, Joe Boulanger 
 Was crazy to fight Irish man wan day 
 Wen he steal all de pork on hees dinner can, 
 Den it is n't so very hard onderstan' 
 Bazile Latour mus' be darn smart man. 
 
 For nobody know de poor feller Joe 
 
 Wen he 's come from de grande moulin below 
 
 'Cept hees moder, dat 's tole heem mak' promise 
 
 sure 
 
 Kip off on de mill, an' Bazile Latour, 
 (But it 's long before doctor can mak' heem cure). 
 
 Den de ole Denise she was very please, 
 An' nex' day spik wit' Marie Louise, 
 "Ma girl, I got de right man for you 
 If you can only jus' love heem true, 
 Bazile dat young feller, I t'ink he '11 do." 
 
 "Wall! Moder he 's poor, Bazile Latour, 
 
 But if you t'ink you will lak heem sure 
 
 I '11 try an' feex it mese'f some day 
 
 For you 've been de good moder wit' me alway " 
 
 An' dat 's w'at Marie Louise she say. 
 
 So it 's comin' right affer all de fight, 
 An' de parish don't see de more finer sight 
 Dan w'en dey get marry on St. Germain 
 Wy de buggy she 's pilin' de w'ole chemin 
 All de way from de church to de grande moulin. 
 152
 
 THE OLD HOUSE AND THE NEW 
 
 The Old House and the New 
 
 TS it only twelve mont' I play de fool, 
 
 You "re sure it 's correc', ma dear? 
 
 I 'm glad for hearin' you spik dat way 
 
 For I t'ink it was twenty year, 
 Since leffin' de leetle ole house below, 
 
 I mak' wit' ma own two han' 
 For go on dat fine beeg place, up dere 
 
 Mon Dieu ! I 'm de crazy man ! 
 
 You 'member we 're not very riche, cherie, 
 
 Dat tam we 're beginnin' life! 
 Mese'f I 'm twenty, an' you eighteen 
 
 Wen I 'm bringin' you home ma wife, 
 Many de worry an' troub' we got 
 
 An' some of dem was n't small, 
 But not very long dey bodder us 
 
 For we work an' forget dem all. 
 
 An' you was de savin' woman too, 
 
 Dere 's nobody beat you dere ! 
 An' I laugh w'en I t'ink of de tam you go 
 
 Over on Trois Rivieres 
 For payin' de bank you know how moche 
 
 We 're owin' for dat new place 
 Wat was he sayin' de nice young man 
 
 Smilin' upon hees face.
 
 THE OLD HOUSE AND THE NEW 
 
 Wen he got dat monee was all pure gole 
 
 Come down on your familee 
 Por bonder year an' mebbe more? 
 
 "Ma-dame you 're excusin' me, 
 But w'ere was you gettin' dis nice gole coin 
 
 Of Louis Quatorze, hees tarn 
 Wit' hees face on back of dem ev'ry wan? 
 
 For dey 're purty scase, now Ma-dame?" 
 
 An' you say "Dat 's not 'ing at all M'sieu' 
 
 Ma familee get dem t'ing, 
 I suppose it 's very long tarn ago, 
 
 Wen Louis Quatorze is King, 
 An' I 'm sorry poor feller he 's comin' dead 
 
 An' not leevin' here to-day 
 '"Cos man should be good on hees frien', M'sieu 1 
 
 Wen de monee he mak' dat way." 
 
 Yass, ev'ry wan know we 're workin' hard 
 
 An' savin' too all dem year, 
 But nobody see us starve ourse'f 
 
 Dere 's plaintee to eat, don't fear 
 Bimeby our chil'ren dey 're growin' up 
 
 So we 're doin' de bes' we can 
 Settle dem off on de firse good chance 
 
 An' geevin' dem leetle Ian'. 
 i54
 
 THE OLD HOUSE AND THE NEW 
 
 An' den de troub' is begin to show 
 
 Wen our daughter poor Caroline 
 She marry dat lawyer on Trois Rivieres 
 
 De beeges' fool never seen! 
 Alway come home ev'ry summer sure 
 
 Bringin' her familee, 
 All right for de chil'ren, I don't min' dem; 
 
 But de husban'! sapree maudit! 
 
 I wish I was close ma ear right off 
 
 Wen he talk of our leetle house 
 Dough I know w'en familee's comin' home 
 
 Dere is n't moche room for a mouse, 
 He say "Riche man lak youse'f can't leev' 
 
 On shaintee lak dis below, 
 Wen t'ousan' dollar will buil' fin' place 
 
 Up on de hill en haut." 
 
 An' he talk about gallerie all aroun' 
 
 Were we sit on de summer night 
 Watchin' de star on de sky above 
 
 Wile de moon she was shinin' bright, 
 Could plant some apple-tree dere, also, 
 
 An' flower, an' I dunno w'at, 
 An* w'en de sun he 's begin to rise 
 
 Look at de view we got!
 
 THE OLD HOUSE AND THE NEW 
 
 Den he bring 'noder feller from Trois Rivieres 
 
 An' show w'at he call de plan 
 For makin' dem house on de w'ole contree 
 
 Mon Dieu ! how I hate dat man ! 
 'Cos he 's talkin' away nearly all de tarn 
 
 Lak trotter upon de race 
 Wall! affer a w'ile we mak' our min* 
 
 For havin' dat nice new place. 
 
 So dey go ahead, an' we let dem go, 
 
 But stuff dey was t'row away ; 
 I 'm watchin' for dat, an' I save mese'f 
 
 Mebbe twenty-five cent a day, 
 For you 're surely cheat if you don't tak' care 
 
 Very offen we fin' dat 's true, 
 An' affer de house she was finish up, 
 
 We're geevin' it nam' Bellevue. 
 
 ! yass, I know we enjoy ourse'f 
 
 W'en our frien' dey was comin' roun' 
 An' say "Dat 's very fine place you got; 
 
 Dere 's not'ing upon de town, 
 Or anyw'ere else for honder mile 
 
 Dis house Bellevue can touch," 
 Ah' den let de horse eat de garden fence 
 
 Non! we don't enjoy dat so moche. 
 156
 
 An' of course we can't say not'ing at all 
 
 For it 's not correc' t'ing you know 
 But "Never min' dat, an' please come again, 
 
 I 'm sorry you got to go." 
 Bapterne! w'en I 'm seein' beeg feller bus' 
 
 Our two dollar easy chair 
 Can't help it at all, I got to go 
 
 Down on de cellar an' swear! 
 
 An' w'ere did we leev' on dat belle maison? 
 
 Wan room an' de kitchen, dat 's all 
 An' plaintee too for de man an* wife! 
 
 An' you 'member de tarn I fall 
 Off on de gallerie wan dark night, 
 
 I los' mese'f tryin' fin' 
 De winder dere on de grande parloir, 
 
 For closin' it up de blin'? 
 
 An' all de tarn de poor leetle house 
 
 Is down on de road below, 
 I t'ink she was jealous dat fine new place 
 
 Up on de hill en haut, 
 For O ! she look lonesome by herse'f 
 
 De winder all broke an' gone 
 No smoke on de chimley comin' out 
 
 No frien' stannin' dere not wan.
 
 THE CANADIAN COUNTRY DOCTOR 
 
 You 'member too, w'en de fever come 
 
 An' ketch us wan winter day? 
 Wat he call de shaintee, our son-in-law, 
 
 Dat 's w'ere dey pass away 
 Xavier, Zoe, an' Euchariste 
 
 Our chil'ren wan, two, t'ree 
 I off en t'ink of de room dey die, 
 
 An' I can't help cryin' me. 
 
 So we '11 go on de ole house once again, 
 
 Long enough we been fool lak dis 
 Never min' w'at dey say bimeby, ma chere 
 
 But geev me de leetle kiss, 
 Let dem stay on dat fine new place up dere 
 
 Our daughter an' son-in-law 
 For to-morrow soon as de sun will rise 
 
 We 're goin' back home Hooraw ! 
 
 The Canadian Country Doctor 
 
 F S'POSE mos' ev'ry body t'ink hees job 's 
 
 about de hardes' 
 From deboss man on de Gouvernement to poor 
 
 man on de town 
 From de cure to de lawyer, an' de farmer to de 
 
 school boy 
 
 An' all the de noder feller was mak' de worl' go 
 roun'. 
 
 158
 
 THE CANADIAN COUNTRY DOCTOR 
 
 But dere 's wan man got hees ban' full t'roo 
 
 ev'ry kin' of wedder 
 An' he 's never sure of not'ing but work an' 
 
 work away 
 Dat 's de man dey call de doctor, w'en you ketch 
 
 heem on de con tree 
 
 An' he 's only man I know-me, don't got no 
 holiday. 
 
 If you 're comin' off de city spen' de summer- 
 tarn among us 
 An' you walk out on de mornin w'en de leetle 
 
 bird is sing 
 Mebbe den you see de doctor w'en he 's passin 
 
 wit' hees buggy 
 
 An' you t'ink "Wall! contree doctor mus' be 
 very pleasan' t'ing. 
 
 " Drivin' dat way all de summer up an' down 
 
 along de reever 
 Were de nice cool win' is blowin' among de 
 
 maple tree 
 Den w'en he 's mak' hees visit, comin' home 
 
 before de night tarn 
 
 For pass de quiet evening wit' hees wife an' 
 familee."
 
 THE CANADIAN COUNTRY DOCTOR 
 
 An* w'en off across de mountain, some wan 's 
 
 sick an' want de doctor 
 "Mus' be fine trip crossin' over for watch de 
 
 sun go down 
 Makin' all dem purty color lak w'at you call de 
 
 rainbow," 
 
 Dat 's way de peop' is talkin' was leevin' on 
 de town. 
 
 But it is n't alway summer on de contree, an' de 
 
 doctor 
 He could tole you many story of de storm dat 
 
 he 's been in 
 How hees coonskin coat come handy, w'en de 
 
 win' blow off de reever 
 
 For if she 's sam' ole reever, she 's not alway 
 sam' old win'. 
 
 An' de mountain dat 's so quiet w'en de w'ite 
 
 cloud go a-sailin' 
 All about her on de summer w'ere de sheep 
 
 is feedin' high 
 You should see her on December w'en de snow 
 
 is pilin' roun' her 
 
 An' all de win' of winter come tearin' t'roo de 
 sky. 
 
 1 60
 
 THE CANADIAN COUNTRY DOCTOR 
 
 ! le bon Dieu help de doctor w'en de message 
 
 come to call heem 
 From hees warm bed on de night-tarn for visit 
 
 some poor man 
 Lyin' sick across de hill side on noder side de 
 
 reever 
 
 An' he hear de mountain roarin' lak de beeg 
 Shawinigan. 
 
 Ah ! well he know de warning but he can't stay 
 
 till de morning 
 So he 's hitchin' up hees leetle horse an' put 
 
 heem on burleau 
 Den w'en he 's feex de buffalo, an' wissle to hees 
 
 pony 
 
 Away t'roo storm an' hurricane de contree 
 doctor go. 
 
 O ! de small Canadian pony ! dat 's de horse can 
 
 walk de snowdreef . 
 Dat 's de horse can fin' de road too he 's never 
 
 been before 
 Kip your heart up leetle feller, for dere 's many 
 
 mile before you 
 
 An' it 's purty hard job tellin' w'en you see 
 your stable door. 
 n 161
 
 THE CANADIAN COUNTRY DOCTOR 
 
 Yass ! dc doctor he can tole you, if he have de tarn 
 
 for talkin' 
 All about de bird was singin' before de summer 
 
 lef 
 For he 's got dem on hees bureau an' he 's doin' 
 
 it hese'f too 
 
 An' de las' tarn I was dere, me, I see dem all 
 mese'f. 
 
 But about de way he travel t'roo de stormy 
 
 night of winter 
 Wen de rain come on de spring flood, an' de 
 
 bridge is wash away 
 All de hard work, all de danger dat was offen 
 
 hang aroun' heem 
 
 Dat 's de tarn our contree doctor don't have 
 very moche to say. 
 
 For it 's purty ole, ole story, an' he alway have 
 
 it wit' heem 
 Ever since he come among us on parish Saint 
 
 Mathieu 
 An' no doubt he 's feelin' mebbe jus' de sam' as 
 
 noder feller 
 
 So he rader do hees talkin' about somet'ing 
 dat was new. 
 
 162
 
 MON FRERE CAMILLE 
 
 Mon Frere Camille 
 
 TV/TON frere Camille he was firse class blood 
 ^* A Wen he come off de State las' fall, 
 Wearin' hees boot a la mode box toe 
 An' diamon' pin on hees shirt also 
 Sam' as dem feller on Chi-caw-go ; 
 But now he 's no blood at all, 
 
 Camille, mon frere. 
 
 Wat 's makin' dat change on mon frere Camille? 
 
 Wall ! lissen for minute or two, 
 An' I '11 try feex it up on de leetle song 
 Dat 's geevin' some chance kin' o' help it 
 
 along 
 
 So wedder I 'm right or wedder I 'm wrong 
 You '11 know all about heem w'en I get 
 t'roo, 
 
 Mon frere Camille. 
 
 He never sen' letter for t'orteen year 
 
 So of course he mus' be all right 
 Till telegraph 's comin' from Kan-Ka-Kee 
 " I 'm leffin' dis place on de half pas' t'ree 
 Wat you want to bring is de bes' buggee 
 An' double team sure for me t'orsday night 
 
 Ton frere Camille.' 
 163
 
 MON FRERE CAMILLE 
 
 I wish you be dere w'en Camille arrive 
 
 I bet you will say "Wat 's dat?" 
 For he 's got lee tie cap very lak tuque bleu 
 Ole habitant 's wearin' in bed, dat 's true, 
 An' w'at do you t'ink he carry too? 
 
 Geev it up? Wall! small valise wit' de fine 
 plug hat. 
 
 Mon frere Camille. 
 
 "Very strange." I know you will say right off, 
 
 For dere 's not'ing wrong wit' hees clothes, 
 An' he put on style all de bes' he can 
 Wit' diamon' shinin' across hees han' 
 An' de way he 's talkin' lak Yankee man 
 Mus' be purty hard on hees nose, 
 
 Mon frere Camille. 
 
 But he 'splain all dat about funny cap, 
 
 An' tole us de reason w'y, 
 It seem no feller can travel far, 
 An' specially too on de Pullman car, 
 'Less dey wear leetle cap only cos' dollarre, 
 
 Dat 's true if he never die, 
 
 Mon frere Camille. 
 
 Don't look very strong dem fancy boot 
 
 But he 's 'splain all dat also 
 He say paten' ledder she 's nice an' gay 
 164
 
 You don't need to polish dem ev'ry day, 
 Besides he 's too busy for dat alway, 
 Wen he 's leevin' on Chi-caw-go, 
 
 Mon frere Camille. 
 
 But de State she was n't de only place 
 
 He visit all up an' down, 
 For he 's goin' Cu-baw an' de Mex-i-co, 
 Were he 's killin' two bonder dem wiT taureau, 
 Wat you call de bull : on de circus show, 
 
 O ! if you believe heem he travel roun' . 
 
 Mon frere Camille. 
 
 So of course w'en ma broder was gettin' home 
 
 All the peop' on de parish come 
 Every night on de parlor for hear heem tell 
 How he foller de brave Generale Roosvel' 
 Wen rough rider feller dey fight lak hell 
 
 An' he walk on de front wit' great beeg drum, 
 
 Mon frere Camille. 
 
 An' how is he gainin' dat diamon' ring? 
 
 Way off on de Mex-i-co 
 Were he 's pilin' de bull wan summer day 
 Till it 's not easy haulin' dem all away, 
 An' de lady dey 're t'rowin' heem large bouquet 
 For dey lak de style he was keel taureau, 
 
 Mon frere Camille. 
 165
 
 MON FRERE CAMILLE 
 
 Wall! he talk dat way all de winter t'roo, 
 
 An' hees frien' dey was tryin' fin' 
 Some bull on de county dat 's wil' enough 
 For mon frere Camille, but it 's purty tough 
 'Cos de farmer 's not raisin' such fightin' 
 
 stuff 
 
 An' he don't want not'ing but mos' worse 
 kin' 
 
 Mon frere Camille. 
 
 Dat 's not pleasan' t'ing mebbe los' hees trade, 
 
 If we don't hurry up, for sure, 
 I s'pose you t'ink I was goin' it strong? 
 Never min', somet'ing happen 'fore very long 
 It '11 all come out on dis leetle song 
 
 Wen he pass on de house of Ma-dame 
 Latour 
 
 Camille, mon frere. 
 
 "We 're makin' pique-nique on Denise Latour 
 
 For helpin' put in de hay 
 Too bad she 's de moder large famile'e 
 An' los' de bes' husban' she never see 
 Wen he drown on de reever, poor Jeremie, 
 So he come wit' de res' of de gang dat 
 day, 
 
 Camille, mon frere. 
 166
 
 MON FRERE CAMILLE 
 
 An' affer de hay it was put away 
 
 Don't tak' very long at all, 
 De boy an' de girl she was lookin' 'roun ' 
 For havin' more fun 'fore dey lef de groun' 
 An' dey see leetle bull, mebbe t'ree honder poun* 
 
 An' nex' t'ing I hear dem call 
 
 Mon frere Camille.. 
 
 So nice leetle feller I never see 
 
 Dat bull of Ma-dame Latour 
 Wit' curly hair on de front hees head 
 An' quiet? jus' sam' he was almos' dead 
 An' fat? wall! de chil'ren dey see heem fed 
 
 So he 's not goin' keel heem I 'm very sure, 
 
 Mon frere Camille. 
 
 But de girl kip teasin' an' ole Ma-dame 
 
 She say, "You can go ahead 
 He cos' me four dollarre six mont' ago 
 So if anyt'ing happen ma small taureau, 
 Who 's pay me dat monee I lak to know?" 
 An' he answer, "Dat 's me w'en I keel heem 
 dead" 
 
 Mon frere Camille. 
 
 Den he feex beeg knife on de twelve foot pole, 
 
 So de chil'ren commence to cry 
 An' he jomp on de fence, an' yell, "Hooraw" 
 167
 
 MON FRERE CAMILLE 
 
 An' shout on de leetle French bull, "Dis done! 
 Ain't you scare w'en you see feller from Cubaw? ' ' 
 An' he show heem hees red necktie, 
 
 Mon frere Camille. 
 
 L'petit taureau w'en he see dat tie 
 
 He holler for half a mile 
 Den he jomp on de leg an' he raise de row 
 Ba Golly! I 'm sure I can see heem now. 
 An' dey run w'en dey hear heem, de noder cow 
 
 Den he say, " Dat bull must be surely wil' " 
 
 Mon frere Camille. 
 
 But de bull don't care w'at he say at all, 
 
 For he 's watchin' dat red necktie 
 An' w'en ma broder he push de pole 
 I 'm sure it 's makin' some purty large hole, 
 If de bull be dere, but ma blood run col' 
 
 For de nex' t'ing I hear heem cry, 
 
 Camille, mon frere. 
 
 No wonder he cry, for dat sapree bull 
 
 He 's yell leetle bit some more, 
 Den he ketch ma broder dat small taureau 
 Only cos' four dollarre six mont' ago 
 An' he 's t'rowin' heem up from de groun' below 
 Wan tarn, two tarn, till he 's feelin' sore, 
 
 Camille, mon frere. 
 1 68
 
 THE HABITANT'S SUMMER 
 
 An' w'en ma broder 's come down agen 
 
 I s'pose he mus' change hees min' 
 An' mebbe t'ink if it 's all de sam' 
 He '11 keel dat bull w'en he get more tarn 
 For dere he was runnin' wit' ole Ma-dame 
 
 De chil'ren, de bull, an' de cow behin' 
 
 Camille, mon frere. 
 
 So dat 's de reason he 's firse class blood 
 W'en he come off de State las' fall 
 
 Wearin' hees boot a la mode box toe 
 
 An' diamon' pin on hees shirt also 
 
 Sam' as dem feller on Chi-caw-go 
 But now he 's no blood at all, 
 
 Camille, mon frere. 
 
 The Habitant's Summer 
 
 f~\ WHO can blame de winter, never min' de 
 
 hard he 's blowin' 
 'Cos w'en de tam is comin' for passin' on hees 
 
 roun' 
 De firse t'ing he was doin' is start de sky a 
 
 snowin' 
 
 An' mak' de nice w'ite blanket, for cover up de 
 groun'. 
 
 169
 
 THE HABITANT'S SUMMER 
 
 An' de groun' she go a'sleepin* t'roo all de stormy 
 
 season, 
 Restin' from her work las' summer, till she 's 
 
 waken by de rain 
 Dat le bon Dieu sen' some morning, an 1 of 
 
 course dat 's be de reason 
 Ev'ry year de groun' she 's lookin' jus' as 
 fresh an' young again. 
 
 Den you geev her leetle sunshine, w'en de snow 
 
 go off an' leave her 
 Let de sout' win' blow upon her, an' you see 
 
 beeg changes now 
 Wit' de steam arisin' from her jus' de sam' she 
 
 got de fever, 
 
 An' not many day is passin' w'en she 's ready 
 for de plow. 
 
 We don't bodder wit' no spring-tarn w'ere de 
 
 rain she 's alway fallin', 
 Two, t'ree mont', or mebbe longer, on de 
 
 place beyon' de sea, 
 W'ere some bird he 's nam' de cuckoo, spen' de 
 
 mos' hees tarn a-callin' 
 
 But for fear he wet hees fedder, hide away 
 upon de tree. 
 
 170
 
 THE HABITANT'S SUMMER 
 
 On de swamp beside de reever, mebbe jus' about 
 
 de fly-tarn 
 Were it 's very hard to see heem, we hear de 
 
 wo-wa-raw, 
 Dat 's w'at you call de bull-frog, singin' "more 
 
 rum," all de night-tarn. 
 He 's only kin' of cuckoo we got on Canadaw. 
 
 No, we have n't got dat feller, but we got some 
 
 bird can beat heem, 
 An' we hear dem, an' we see dem, jus' so soon 
 
 de winter go, 
 So never min' de cuckoo for we 're not afraid to 
 
 meet heem, 
 
 W'enever he was ready, wit' our own petits 
 oiseaux. 
 
 An* dey almos' come togeder, lak de spring an' 
 
 summer wedder, 
 Blue-bird wan day, pie-blanche nex' day, 
 
 geevin' out deir leetle note, 
 Affer dat we see de robin, an* de gouglou on de 
 
 medder, 
 
 Den le roi, de red bird 's comin', dressim on 
 hees sojer coat.
 
 THE HABITANT'S SUMMER 
 
 Wen de grosbec on de pine tree, wak' you early 
 
 wit' hees singin', 
 Wen you lissen to de pa'tridge a-beatin' on 
 
 hees drum, 
 Wen de w'ole place roun' about you wit' musi- 
 
 que is a-ringin', 
 
 Den you know de winter 's over, an' de sum- 
 mer day is come. 
 
 See de apple blossom showin', see de clover how 
 
 it 's growin' 
 Watch de trout, an' way dey 're playin' on de 
 
 reever down below, 
 Ah! de cunning leetle feller, easy see how well 
 
 dey 're knowin' 
 
 We 're too busy now for ketch dem an' dat 's 
 w'y dey 're jompin' so. 
 
 For de mos' fine summer season don't las' too 
 
 long, an' we know it, 
 So we 're workin' ev'rybody, w'ile de sun is 
 
 warm an' clear, 
 Dat 's de tam for plant de barley, an' de injun 
 
 corn we sow it, 
 
 Wen de leaf upon de maple 's jus' de size of 
 squirrel's ear. 
 
 172
 
 THE HABITANT'S SUMMER 
 
 'Noder job is feexin' fences, if we don't be lak de 
 
 las' year, 
 Wen de Durham bull he 's pullin' nearly all 
 
 de fence away, 
 An' dat sapree champion taureau let de cattle 
 
 out de pasture 
 
 So dey 're playin' on de devil wit' de oat an' 
 wit' de hay. 
 
 Yass, de farmer 's offen worry, an' it sometam 
 
 mak' heem snappy, 
 For no sooner wan job 's finish, dan he got two 
 
 t'ousan' more, 
 But he 's glad for see de summer, w'en all de 
 
 worl' she 's happy, 
 
 An' ev'ryt'ing aroun' heem was leevin' out 
 o' door. 
 
 Now de ole sheep 's takin' young wan up de hill- 
 side, an' dey feed dem 
 Were de nice short grass is growin' sweeter 
 
 dan it grow below, 
 Ev'ry morning off dey 're goin' an' it 's pleasan' 
 
 t'ing to see dem 
 
 Lookin' jus' lak leetle snow-ball all along de 
 green coteau. 
 
 i73
 
 THE HABITANT'S SUMMER 
 
 Dere 's de hen too, wit' her chicken, O how 
 
 moche dey mak' her bodder 
 Watchin' dem mos' ev'ry minute, fearin' dey 
 
 was go astray 
 But w'en mountain hawk he 's comin' den how 
 
 quick dey fin' de moder 
 
 An' get onderneat' her fedder till de danger 's 
 pass away. 
 
 An' jus' see de turkey gobbler, an' lissen to heem 
 
 talkin' 
 No wonder he 's half crazee, an' spikin' out 
 
 so loud, 
 W'en you meet heem on de roadside wit' hees 
 
 wife an' chil'ren walkin', 
 
 It 's kipin' heem so busy lookin' affer such a 
 crowd. 
 
 Dat 's about de way we 're leevin', dat 's a few 
 
 t'ing we 're seein', 
 "Wen de nice warm summer sun is shinin' down 
 
 on Canadaw, 
 An' no matter w'at I 'm hearin', still I never feel 
 
 lak bein' 
 No oder stranger feller, me, but only habitant.
 
 LITTLE LAC GRENIER 
 
 For dere 's no place lak our own place, don't 
 
 care de far you 're goin' 
 Dat 's w'at de whole worl's sayin', w'enever 
 
 dey come here, 
 'Cos we got de fines' contree, an' de beeges' 
 
 reever flowin' 
 
 An' le bon Dieu sen' de sunshine nearly twelve 
 mont' ev'ry year. 
 
 Little Lac Grenier 
 (Gren- Yay) 
 
 T EETLE Lac Grenier, she 's all alone, 
 
 Right on de mountain top, 
 But cloud sweepin' by, will fin' tarn to stop 
 No matter how quickly he want to go, 
 So he 11 kiss leetle Grenier down below. 
 
 Leetle Lac Grenier, she 's all alone, 
 Up on de mountain high 
 But she never feel lonesome, 'cos for w'y? 
 So soon as de winter was gone away 
 De bird come an' sing to her ev'ry day. 
 
 Leetle Lac Grenier, she 's all alone, 
 
 Back on de mountain dere, 
 
 But de pine tree an' spruce stan* ev'rywhere 
 
 Along by de shore, an' mak' her warm 
 
 For dey kip off de win' an' de winter storm.
 
 LITTLE LAC GRENIER 
 
 Leetle Lac Grenier, she 's all alone, 
 
 No broder, no sister near, 
 
 But de swallow will fly, an' de beeg moose 
 
 deer 
 
 An' caribou too, will go long way 
 To drink de sweet water of Lac Grenier. 
 
 Leetle Lac Grenier, I see you now, 
 Onder de roof of spring 
 Ma canoe 's afloat, an' de robin sing, 
 De lily 's beginnin' her summer dress, 
 An' trout 's wakin' up from hees long long 
 res'. 
 
 Leetle Lac Grenier, I 'm happy now, 
 Out on de ole canoe, 
 For I 'm all alone, ma chere, wit' you, 
 An' if only a nice light rod I had 
 I 'd try dat fish near de lily pad ! 
 
 Leetle Lac Grenier, O ! let me go, 
 Don't spik no more, 
 
 For your voice is strong lak de rapid's roar, 
 An' you know youse'f I 'm too far away, 
 For visit you now lee tie Lac Grenier! 
 176
 
 THE WINDIGO 
 
 The Windigo 
 O easy wit' de paddle, an' steady wit' de 
 
 Geev rudder to de bes' man you got among de 
 
 crew, 
 Let ev'ry wan be quiet, don't let dem sing no 
 
 more 
 
 Wen you see de islan' risin' out of Grande 
 Lac Manitou. 
 
 Above us on de sky dere, de summer cloud may 
 
 float 
 
 Aroun' us on de water de ripple never show, 
 But somet'ing down below us can rock de 
 
 stronges' boat, 
 
 Wen we 're comin' near de islan' of de spirit 
 Windigo ! 
 
 De carcajou may breed dere, an' otter sweem de 
 
 pool 
 De moosh-rat mak' de mud house, an' beaver 
 
 buil' hees dam 
 
 An' beeges' Injun hunter on all de T6te de Boule 
 Will never set hees trap dere from spring to 
 summer tarn.
 
 THE WINDIGO 
 
 But he '11 bring de fines' presen' from upper St. 
 
 Maurice 
 
 De loup marin an' black-fox from off de Hod- 
 son Bay 
 An' hide dem on de islan' an' smoke de pipe of 
 
 peace 
 
 So Windigo will help heem w'en he travel far 
 away. 
 
 We shaintee on dat islan' on de winter seexty- 
 
 nine 
 If you look you see de clearin' aroun' de Coo 
 
 Coo Cache, 
 An' pleasan' place enough too among de spruce 
 
 an' pine 
 
 If foreman on de shaintee is n't Cyprien 
 Palache. 
 
 Beeg feller, alway watchin' on hees leetle weasel 
 
 eye, 
 De gang dey can't do not'ing but he see dem 
 
 purty quick 
 Wit' hees "Hi dere, w'at you doin'?" ev'ry tarn 
 
 he f s passin' by 
 
 An' de bad word he was usin', wall! it offen 
 mak' me sick. 
 
 178
 
 THE WINDIGO 
 
 An' he carry silver w'issle wit' de chain aroun' 
 
 hees neck 
 For fear he mebbe los' it, an' ev'rybody 
 
 say 
 He mus' buy it from de devil w'en he 's passin' 
 
 on Kebeck 
 
 But if it 's true dat story, I dunno how moche 
 he pay. 
 
 Dere 's plaintee on de shaintee can sing lak ros- 
 
 signol 
 Pat Clancy play de fiddle, an' Jimmie Char- 
 
 bonneau 
 Was bring hees concertina from below St. 
 
 Fereol 
 
 So we get some leetle pleasure till de long, 
 long winter go. 
 
 But if we start up singin' affer supper on de 
 
 camp 
 "Par derriere chez ma tante," or "Mattawa 
 
 wishtay," 
 De boss he '11 come along den, an' put heem out 
 
 de lamp, 
 
 An' only stop hees swearin' w'en we all go 
 marche coucher. 
 
 179
 
 THE WINDIGO 
 
 We 've leetle boy dat winter from Po-po-lo-be- 
 
 lang 
 Hees fader an' hees moder dey 're bote 
 
 A-ben-a-kee 
 An' he 's comin', Injun Johnnie, wit' some man 
 
 de lumber gang 
 
 Was fin' heem nearly starvin' above on Lac 
 Souris. 
 
 De ole man an' de woman is tryin' pass de Soo 
 W'en water 's high on spring tarn, an' of course 
 
 dey 're gettin' drown', 
 For even smartes' Injun should n't fool wit' 
 
 birch canoe, 
 
 Were de reever lak toboggan on de hill is 
 runnin' down. 
 
 So dey lef de leetle feller all alone away up 
 
 dere 
 Till lumber gang is ketchin' him an' bring him 
 
 on de Cache, 
 But better if he 's stayin' wit* de wolf an' wit' 
 
 de bear 
 
 Dan come an' tak' hees chances wit' Cyprien 
 Palache. 
 
 1 80
 
 THE WINDIGO 
 
 I wonder how he stan' it, w'y he never run 
 
 away 
 For Cyprien lak neeger he is treat heem all 
 
 de sam' 
 An' if he 's wantin' Johnnie on de night or on de 
 
 day 
 
 God help heem if dat w'issle she was below de 
 secon* tarn! 
 
 De boy he don't say not'ing, no wan never see 
 
 heem cry 
 He 's got de Injun in heem, you can see it on 
 
 de face, 
 An' only for us feller an' de cook, he '11 surely 
 
 die 
 
 Long before de winter 's over, long before we 
 lef ' de place, 
 
 But I see heem hidin' somet'ing wan morning 
 
 by de shore 
 So firse tarn I was passin' I scrape away de 
 
 snow 
 An' it 's rabbit skin he 's ketchin' on de swamp 
 
 de day before, 
 
 Leetle Injun Johnnie 's workin' on de spirit 
 Windigo. 
 
 181
 
 THE WINDIGO 
 
 December 's come in stormy, an' de snow-dreef 
 
 fill de road 
 
 Can only see de chimley an' roof of our cabane, 
 An' stronges' team in stable fin' it plaintee 
 
 heavy load 
 
 Haulin' sleigh an' two free pine log t'roo de 
 wood an' beeg savane. 
 
 An' I travel off wan day me, wit' Cyprien 
 
 Palache, 
 Explorin' for new timber, w'en de win' begin 
 
 to blow, 
 So we hurry on de snow-shoe for de camp on Coo 
 
 Coo Cache 
 
 If de nor' eas' storm is comin', was de bes' 
 place we dunno 
 
 An' we 're gettin' safe enough dere wit' de storm 
 
 close on our heel, 
 But w'en our belt we loosen for takin' off de 
 
 coat 
 De foreman commence screamin' an' mon Dieu 
 
 it mak' us feel 
 
 Lak he got t'ree t'ousan' devil all fightin' on 
 hees t'roat. 
 
 182
 
 THE WINDIGO 
 
 Cyprien is los' hees w'issle, Cyprien is los' hees 
 
 chain 
 Injun Johnnie he mus' fin' it, even if de win' 
 
 is high 
 He can never show hese'f on de Coo Coo Cache 
 
 again 
 
 Till he bring dat silver w'issle an' de chain it '& 
 hangin' by. 
 
 So he sen' heem on hees journey never knowin* 
 
 he come back 
 T'roo de rough an' stormy wedder, t'roo de 
 
 pile of dreefin' snow 
 "Wat 's de use of bein' Injun if you can't smell 
 
 out de track?" 
 
 Dat 's de way de boss is talkin', an' poor 
 Johnnie have to go. 
 
 If you want to hear de musiqtie of de nort' win* 
 
 as it blow 
 An' lissen to de hurricane an' learn de way it 
 
 sing 
 An' feel how small de man is w'en he 's leevin' 
 
 here below, 
 
 You should try it on de shaintee w'en she 's 
 doin' all dem t'ing ! 
 183
 
 THE WINDIGO 
 
 Wat 's dat soun' lak somet'ing cryin' all aroun' 
 
 us ev'ryw'ere? 
 We never hear no tender upon de winter 
 
 storm! 
 Dey 're shoutin' to each oder dem voices on de 
 
 air, 
 
 An' it 's red hot too de stove pipe, but no 
 wan 's feelin' warm! 
 
 Get out an' go de woodpile before I freeze to 
 
 Cyprien de boss is yellin' an' he 's lookin' cole 
 
 an' w'ite 
 Lak dead man on de coffin, but no wan go, you 
 
 bet, 
 For if it 's near de woodpile, 't is n't close 
 
 enough to-night! 
 
 Kon! we ain't afraid of not'ing, but we don't 
 
 lak takin' chance, 
 An' w'en we hear de spirit of de wiT A-ben-a- 
 
 kee 
 Singin' war song on de chimley, makin' all dem 
 
 Injun dance 
 
 Raisin' row dere, you don't ketch us on no 
 woodpile no siree! 
 184
 
 THE WINDIGO 
 
 O ! de lonesome night we 're passin' w'ile we 're 
 
 stayin' on dat place! 
 An' ev'rybody sheever w'en Jimmie Char- 
 
 bonneau 
 Say he 's watchin' on de winder an' he see de 
 
 Injun face 
 
 An' it 's lookin' so he tole us, jus' de sam' as 
 Windigo. 
 
 Den again mese'f I 'm hearin' somet'ing callin', 
 
 an' it soun' 
 Lak de voice of leetle Johnnie so I 'm passin' 
 
 on de door 
 But de pine stump on de clearin' wit' de w'ite 
 
 sheet all aroun' 
 
 Mak' me t'ink of churchyar' tombstone, an' 
 I can't go dere no more 
 
 Wat 's de reason we 're so quiet w'ile our heart 
 
 she 's goin' fas' 
 Wy is no wan ax de question? dat we 're all 
 
 afraid to spik? 
 Was it wing of flyin' wiT bird strek de winder as 
 
 it pass, 
 
 Or de sweesh of leetle snow-ball w'en de v, in* 
 is playin' trick? 
 
 185
 
 THE WINDIGO 
 
 Wen we bull' de Coo Coo shaintee, she 's as 
 
 steady as a rock, 
 Did you feel de shaintee shakin' de sam, she 's 
 
 goin' to fall? 
 Dere 's somet'ing on de doorway! an' now we 
 
 hear de knock 
 
 An' up above de hurricane we hear de w'issle 
 call. 
 
 Callin', callin' lak a bugle, an 1 he 's jompin' up 
 
 de boss 
 From hees warm bed on de corner an' open 
 
 wide de door 
 
 Dere 's no use foller affer for Cyprien is los' 
 An' de Coo Coo Cache an' shaintee he '11 
 never see no more. 
 
 At las' de morning 's comin', an' storm is blow 
 
 away 
 An' outside on de shaintee young Jimmie 
 
 Charbonneau 
 He 's seein track of snowshoe, 'bout de size of 
 
 double sleigh 
 
 Dere 's no mistak' it 's makin' by de spirit 
 Windigo. 
 
 1 86
 
 NATIONAL POLICY 
 
 An' de leetle Injun Johnnie, he 's all ri^ht j 
 
 onderstan' 
 For you '11 fin' heem up de reever above de 
 
 Coo Coo Cache 
 Ketchin' mink and ketchin' beaver, an 'he 's 
 
 growin' great beeg man 
 But dat 's de las' we 're hearin' of Cyprien 
 Palache. 
 
 National Policy 
 
 /"\UR fader lef ole France behin', dat 's 
 
 many year ago, 
 An' how we get along since den, wall! ev'ry 
 
 body know, 
 Few t'ousan' firse class familee was only come 
 
 dat tarn, 
 An' now we got pure Canayens; t'ree million 
 
 peop' bedamme! 
 
 Dat 's purty smart beez-nesse, I t'ink we done 
 
 on Canadaw, 
 An' we don't mak' no grande hooraw, but do it 
 
 tranquillement 
 So if we 're braggin' now an' den, we mus' be 
 
 excuzay, 
 For no wan 's never see before de record bus' 
 
 dat way. 
 
 187
 
 NATIONAL POLICY 
 
 An' w'y should we be feel ashame, 'cos we have 
 
 boy an' girl? 
 No matter who was come along, we '11 match 
 
 agen de worl' ; 
 Wit' plaintee boy lak w'at we got no. danger be 
 
 afraid, 
 An' all de girl she look too nice for never come 
 
 ole maid. 
 
 If we have only small cor-nerre de sam' we have 
 
 before 
 Wen ole Champlain an' Jacques Cartier firse 
 
 jomp upon de shore 
 Dere 's no use hurry den at all, but now you 
 
 understan' 
 We got to whoop it up, ba gosh! for occupy de 
 
 Ian'! 
 
 W'at 's use de million acre, w'at 's use de belle 
 
 riviere, 
 An* t'ing lak dat if we don't have somebody 
 
 leevin' dere? 
 W'at 's mak' de worl' look out for us, an' kip 
 
 de nation free 
 Unless we 're raisin' all de tarn some fine large 
 
 familee? 
 
 1 88
 
 NATIONAL POLICY 
 
 Don't seem so long we buil' dat road, Chemin 
 
 de Pacifique, 
 Tak' bonder dollar pass on dere, an' nearly two 
 
 t'ree week, 
 Den look dat place it freeze so hard, on w'at 
 
 you call Klon-dak, 
 Wall ! if we have to fill dem up, we got some large 
 
 contrac' ! 
 
 Of course we 're not doin' bad jus' now ; so ev'ry- 
 
 body say, 
 
 But we dunno de half we got on Canadaw to- 
 day, 
 An' still she 's comin' beeger, an* never mak' 
 
 no fuss, 
 So if we don't look out, firse t'ing, she '11 get 
 
 ahead of us. 
 
 De more I t'ink, de more I 'm scare, de way 
 
 she grow so fas', 
 An' worse of all it 's hard to say how long de 
 
 boom '11 las' 
 But if she don't go slower an' ease up leetle 
 
 bit, 
 
 Bimeby de Canayens will be some dead bird on 
 de pit. 
 
 189
 
 AUTUMN DAYS 
 
 Den ev'ry body hip hooraw! an' sen' de familee 
 Along de reever, t'roo de wood, an' on de grande 
 
 prairie, 
 Dat 's only way I 'm t'inkin' arrange de w'ole 
 
 affaire 
 An' mebbe affer w'ile dere won't be too moche 
 
 Ian' for spare. 
 
 Autumn Days 
 
 TN dreams of the night I hear the call 
 
 Of wild duck scudding across the lake, 
 In dreams I see the old convent wall, 
 Where Ottawa's waters surge and break. 
 
 But Hercule awakes me ere the sun 
 
 Has painted the eastern skies with gold. 
 
 Hercule! true knight of the rod and gun 
 As ever lived in the days of old. 
 
 "Arise! tho' the moon hangs high above, 
 The sun will soon usher in the day, 
 
 And the southerly wind that sportsmen love 
 Is blowing across St. Louis Bay." 
 
 The wind is moaning among the trees, 
 Along the shore where the shadows lie, 
 
 And faintly borne on the fresh'ning breeze 
 From yonder point comes the loon's wild cry 
 190
 
 . AUTUMN DAYS 
 
 Like diamonds flashing athwart the tide 
 The dancing moonbeams quiver and glow, 
 
 As out on the deep we swiftly glide 
 To our distant Mecca, lie Perrot. 
 
 He Perrot far to the southward lies, 
 
 Pointe Claire on the lee we leave behind, 
 
 And eager we gaze with longing eyes, 
 For faintest sign of the deadly "blind." 
 
 Past the point where Ottawa's current flows 
 A league from St. Lawrence golden sands 
 
 Out in the bay where the wild grass grows 
 We mark the spot where our ambush stands. 
 
 We enter it just as the crimson flush 
 Of morn illumines the hills with light, 
 
 And patiently wait the first mad rush 
 Of pinions soaring in airy flight. 
 
 A rustle of wings from over there, 
 Where all night long on watery bed 
 
 The flocks have slept and the morning air 
 Rings with the messenger of lead. 
 
 Many a pilgrim from far away 
 
 Many a stranger from distant seas, 
 
 Is dying to-day on St. Louis Bay, 
 
 To requiem sung by the southern breeze. 
 191
 
 MADELEINE VERCHERES 
 
 And thus till the sound of the vesper bell 
 Comes stealing o'er Ottawa's dusky stream, 
 
 And the ancient light-house we know so well 
 Lights up the tide with its friendly gleam. 
 
 Then up with the anchor and ply the oar, 
 For homeward again our course must bear, 
 
 Farewell to the "blind" by He Perrot 's shore, 
 And welcome the harbor of old Pointe Claire ! 
 
 Madeleine Vercheres 
 
 ' 'VE told you many a tale, my child, of the 
 
 old heroic days 
 
 Of Indian wars and massacre, of villages ablaze 
 With savage torch, from Ville Marie to the 
 
 Mission of Trois Rivieres 
 But never have I told you yet, of Madeleine 
 
 Vercheres. 
 
 Summer had come with its blossoms, and gaily 
 the robin sang 
 
 And deep in the forest arches the axe of the 
 woodman rang 
 
 Again in the waving meadows, the sun-browned 
 farmers met 
 
 And out on the green St. Lawrence, the fisher- 
 man spread his net. 
 192
 
 MADELEINE VERCHERES 
 
 And so through the pleasant season, till the 
 
 days of October came 
 When children wrought with their parents, and 
 
 even the old and lame 
 With tottering frames and footsteps, their feeble 
 
 labors lent 
 At the gathering of the harvest le bon Dieu 
 
 himself had sent. 
 
 For news there was none of battle, from the 
 
 forts on the Richelieu 
 To the gates of the ancient city, where the 
 
 flag of King Louis flew 
 All peaceful the skies hung over the seigneurie 
 
 of Verckeres, 
 Like the calm that so often cometh, ere the 
 
 hurricane rends the air. 
 
 And never a thought of danger had the Seigneur 
 
 sailing away, 
 To join the soldiers of Carignan, where down at 
 
 Quebec they lay, 
 But smiled on his little daughter, the maiden 
 
 Madeleine, 
 And a necklet of jewels promised her, when 
 
 home he should come again. 
 
 13 193 

 
 MADELEINE VERCHERES 
 
 And ever the days passed swiftly, and careless 
 
 the workmen grew 
 For the months they seemed a hundred, since 
 
 the last war-bugle blew. 
 Ah! little they dreamt on their pillows, the 
 
 farmers of Vercheres, 
 That the wolves of the southern forest had 
 
 scented the harvest fair. 
 
 Like ravens they quickly gather, like tigers 
 
 they watch their prey 
 Poor people! with hearts so happy, they sang 
 
 as they toiled away. 
 Till the murderous eyeballs glistened, and the 
 
 tomahawk leaped out 
 
 And the banks of the green St. Lawrence echoed 
 
 the savage shout. 
 
 "Oh mother of Christ have pity," shrieked the 
 
 women in despair 
 "This is no time for praying," cried the young 
 
 Madeleine Vercheres, 
 "Aux armes! aux armes! les Iroquois! quick to 
 
 your arms and guns 
 Fight for your God and country and the lives 
 
 of the innocent ones." 
 194
 
 MADELEINE VERCHERES 
 
 And she sped like a deer of the mountain, when 
 
 beagles press close behind 
 And the feet that would follow after, must be 
 
 swift as the prairie wind. 
 Alas! for the men and women, and little ones 
 
 that day 
 For the road it was long and weary, and the fort 
 
 it was far away. 
 
 But the fawn had outstripped the hunters, and 
 
 the palisades drew near, 
 And soon from the inner gateway the war-bugle 
 
 rang out clear; 
 Gallant and clear it sounded, with never a note 
 
 of despair, 
 'T was a soldier of France's challenge, from the 
 
 young Madeleine Vercheres. 
 
 "And this is my little garrison, my brothers 
 
 Louis and Paul? 
 With soldiers two and a cripple? may the 
 
 Virgin pray for us all. 
 But we Ve powder and guns in plenty, and we '11 
 
 fight to the latest breath 
 And if need be for God and country, die a brave 
 
 soldier's death.
 
 MADELEINE VERCHERES 
 
 "Load all the carabines quickly, and whenever 
 
 you sight the foe 
 Fire from the upper turret, and the loopholes 
 
 down below. 
 Keep up the fire, brave soldiers, though the 
 
 fight may be fierce and long 
 And they '11 think our little garrison is more 
 
 than a hundred strong." 
 
 So spake the maiden Madeleine, and she roused 
 
 the Norman blood 
 That seemed for a moment sleeping, and sent 
 
 it like a flood 
 Through every heart around her, and they 
 
 fought the red Iroquois 
 As fought in the old time battles, the soldiers 
 
 of Carignan. 
 
 And they say the black clouds gathered, and a 
 
 tempest swept the sky 
 And the roar of the thunder mingled with the 
 
 forest tiger's cry 
 But still the garrison fought on, while the 
 
 lightning's jagged spear 
 Tore a hole in the night's dark curtain, and 
 
 showed them a foeman near. 
 196
 
 MADELEINE VERCHERES 
 
 And the sun rose up in the morning, and the 
 
 color of blood was he 
 Gazing down from the heavens on the little 
 
 company. 
 "Behold! my friends!" cried the maiden, "'tis 
 
 a warning lest we forget 
 Though the night saw us do our duty, our work 
 
 is not finished yet." 
 
 And six days followed each other, and feeble 
 
 her limbs became 
 Yet the maid never sought her pillow, and the 
 
 flash of the carabines' flame 
 Illumined the powder-smoked faces, aye, even 
 
 when hope seemed gone 
 And she only smiled on her comrades, and told 
 
 them to fight, fight on. 
 
 And she blew a blast on the bugle, and lo! from 
 the forest black 
 
 Merrily, merrily ringing, an answer came peal- 
 ing back 
 
 Oh! pleasant and sweet it sounded, borne on 
 the morning air, 
 
 For it heralded fifty soldiers, with gallant De 
 la Monniere. 
 
 197
 
 MADELEINE VERCHERES 
 
 And when he beheld the maiden, the soldier 
 of Carignan, 
 
 And looked on the little garrison that fought 
 the red Iroquois 
 
 And held their own in the battle, for six long 
 weary days, 
 
 He stood for a moment speechless, and mar- 
 velled at woman's ways- 
 
 Then he beckoned the men behind him and 
 
 steadily they advance 
 And with carabines uplifted, the veterans of 
 
 France 
 Saluted the brave young Captain so timidly 
 
 standing there 
 And they, fired a volley in honor of Madeleine 
 
 Vercheres. 
 
 And this, my dear, is the story of the maiden 
 
 Madeleine 
 God grant that we in Canada may never see 
 
 again 
 Such cruel wars and massacres, in waking or in 
 
 dream 
 As our fathers and mothers saw, my child, in 
 
 the days of the old regime. 
 198
 
 THE "ROSE DELIMA" 
 
 The "RoseDelima" 
 
 'VT'OU can sew heem up in a canvas sack, 
 
 An' t'row heem over boar' 
 You can wait till de ship she 's comin' back 
 
 Den bury heem on de shore 
 For dead man w'en he 's dead for sure, 
 
 Ain't good for not'ing at all 
 An* he '11 stay on de place you put heem 
 
 Till he 'hear dat bugle call 
 Dey say will soun' on de las', las' day 
 W'en ev'ry t'ing 's goin' for pass away, 
 But down on de Gulf of St. Laurent 
 
 Were de sea an' de reever meet 
 An' off on St. Pierre de Miquelon, 
 
 De chil'ren on de street 
 Can tole you story of Pierre Guillaume, 
 
 De sailor of St. Yvonne 
 Dat 's bringin' de "Rose Delima" home 
 
 Affer he 's dead an' gone. 
 
 
 He was stretch heem on de bed an* he could n't 
 
 raise hees head 
 So dey place heem near de winder w'ere he 
 
 can look below, 
 An' watch de schooner lie wit' her topmas' on 
 
 de sky, 
 
 An' oh! how mad it mak' heem, ole Captinne 
 Baribeau. 
 
 199
 
 THE "ROSE DELIMA" 
 
 For she 's de fines' boat dat never was afloat 
 From de harbor of St. Simon to de shore of 
 
 New-fun-lan' 
 She can almos' dance a reel, an' de sea shell on 
 
 her keel 
 
 Wall! you count dem very easy on de finger 
 of your han'. 
 
 But de season 's flyin' fas', an' de fall is nearly 
 
 pas' 
 An' de leetle "Rose Delima" she's doin' 
 
 not 'ing dere 
 Only pullin' on her chain, an' wishin' once 
 
 again 
 
 She was w'ere de black fish tumble, an jomp 
 upon de air. 
 
 But who can tak' her out, for she 's got de tender 
 
 mout' 
 Lak a trotter on de race-course dat 's mebbe 
 
 run away 
 If he 's not jus' handle so an' ole Captinne 
 
 Baribeau 
 
 Was de only man can sail her, dat 's w'at dey 
 offen say. 
 
 200
 
 
 THE "ROSE DELIMA" 
 
 An' now he 's lyin' dere, w'ere de breeze is 
 
 blow hees hair 
 An' he 's hearin' ev'ry morning de " Rose 
 
 Delima " call, 
 Sayin', "Come along wit' me, an' we '11 off across 
 
 de sea, 
 
 For I 'm lonesome waitin' for you, Captinne 
 Paul. 
 
 "On Anticosti shore we hear de breaker 
 
 roar 
 An' reef of Dead Man's Islan' too we 
 
 know, 
 But we never miss de way, no matter night or 
 
 day, 
 
 De 'Rose Delima' schooner an' Captinne 
 Baribeau." 
 
 De Captinne cry out den, so de house is shake 
 
 again, 
 "Come here! come here, an' quickly, ma 
 
 daughter Virginie, 
 An' let me hoi' your han', for so long as I can 
 
 stan' 
 
 I '11 tak' de ' Rose Delima, ' an' sail her off to 
 sea." 
 
 2OI
 
 THE "ROSE DELIMA" 
 
 "No, no, ma fader dear, you 're better stayin' 
 
 here 
 
 Till de cherry show her blossom on de spring, 
 For de loon he 's flyin' sout' an' de fall is nearly 
 
 out, 
 Wen de wil' bird of de nort' is on de wing. 
 
 "'But fader dear, I know de man can go below 
 Wit' leetle 'Rose Delima' on St. Pierre de 
 
 Miquelon 
 Hees nam' is Pierre Guillaume, an' he '11 bring 
 
 de schooner home 
 
 Till she 's t'rowin' out her anchor on de port 
 of St. Simon." 
 
 "Ha! Ha! ma Virginie, it isn't hard to see 
 You lak dat smart young sailor man youse'f, 
 
 I s'pose he love you too, but I tole you w'at 
 
 I do 
 Wen I have some leetle talk wit' heem mese'f . 
 
 "So call heem up de stair:" an' w'en he 's stan- 
 
 nin' dere, 
 De Captinne say, "Young feller, you see 
 
 how sick I be? 
 
 De poor ole Baribeau has n't very much below 
 Beside de 'Rose Delima,' an' hees daughter 
 Virginie. 
 
 202
 
 THE "ROSE DELIMA" 
 
 "An' I know your fader well, he 's fine man 
 
 too, Noel, 
 An' hees nam' was comin' offen on ma 
 
 prayer 
 
 An' if your sailor blood she 's only half as good 
 You can sail de 'Rose Delima' from here to 
 any w'ere. 
 
 "You love ma Virginie? wall! if you promise me 
 
 You bring de leetle schooner safely home 
 From St. Pierre de Miquelon to de port of St. 
 
 Simon 
 
 You can marry on ma daughter, Pierre Guil- 
 laume." 
 
 An' Pierre he answer den, "Ma fader was your 
 
 frien' 
 
 An' it 's true your daughter Virginie I love, 
 Dat schooner she '11 come home, or ma nam' 's 
 
 not Pierre Guillaume 
 I swear by all de angel up above." 
 
 So de wiT bird goin' sout', see her shake de 
 
 canvas out, 
 An* soon de "Rose Delima" she 'sflyin' down 
 
 de bay 
 
 An' poor young Virginie so long as she can see 
 Kip watchin' on dat schooner till at las' she 's 
 gone away. 
 
 203
 
 THE "ROSE DELIMA" 
 
 Ho! ho! for Gaspe" cliff w'en de win' is blowin* 
 
 stiff, 
 Ho ! ho ! for Anticosti w'ere bone of dead man 
 
 lie! 
 De sailor cimetiere! God help de beeg ship 
 
 dere 
 
 If dey come too near de islan' w'en de wave 
 she 's runnin' high. 
 
 It 's locky t'ing he know de way he ought to go 
 It 's locky too de star above, he know dem 
 
 ev'ry wan 
 
 For God he mak' de star, was shinin' up so far, 
 So he trus' no oder compass, young Pierre 
 of St. Yvonne. 
 
 An' de schooner sail away pas' Wolf Islan' an' 
 
 Cape Ray 
 W'ere de beeg wave fight each oder roun' 
 
 de head of ole Pointe Blanc 
 Only gettin' pleasan' win', till she tak' de 
 
 canvas in 
 
 An' drop de anchor over on St. Pierre de 
 Miquelon. 
 
 204
 
 THE "ROSE DELIMA" 
 
 We 're glad to see some more, de girl upon de 
 
 shore, 
 An' Jean Barbette was kipin' Hotel de Sans- 
 
 souci 
 He 's also glad we come, 'cos we mak' de rafter 
 
 hum; 
 
 An' w'en we 're stayin' dere, ma foi! we spen' 
 de monee free. 
 
 But Captinne Pierre Guillaume, might jus' as 
 
 well be home, 
 For he don't forget his sweetheart an' ole 
 
 man Baribeau, 
 
 An 1 so he stay on boar', an' fifty girl or mere 
 Less dey haul heem on de bowline, dey 
 could n't mak' heem go. 
 
 Wall! we 're workin' hard an' fas', an' de cargo 's 
 
 on at las' 
 Two honder cask of w'isky, de fines' on de 
 
 worl' ! 
 So good-bye to Miquelon, an' hooraw for St. 
 
 Simon 
 
 An' au revoir to Jean Barbette, an' don't for- 
 get de girl. 
 
 205
 
 THE "ROSE DELIMA" 
 
 You can hear de schooner sing, w'en she open 
 
 out her wing 
 So glad to feel de slappin' of de sea wave on 
 
 her breas' 
 She did n't los' no tarn, but travel jus' de 
 
 sam', 
 
 As de small bird w'en he 's flyin' on de evening 
 to hees nes'. 
 
 But her sail 's not blowin' out wit' de warm 
 
 breeze of de sout' 
 
 An' it 's not too easy tellin' w'ere de snow- 
 flake meet de foam 
 Stretchin' out on ev'ry side, all across de Gulf so 
 
 wide 
 
 W'en de nor'-eas' win' is chasin' de "Rose 
 Delima" home. 
 
 An' we 're flyin' once again pas' de Isle of 
 
 Madeleine 
 An' away for Anticosti we let de schooner 
 
 go 
 Lak a race-horse on de track, we could never 
 
 hoi' her back 
 
 She mebbe hear heem callin' her, ole Captinne 
 Baribeau! 
 
 206
 
 THE _" ROSE DELIMA" 
 
 But we 're ketchin' it wan night w'en de star 
 
 go out of sight 
 For de storm dat 's waitin' for us, come before 
 
 we know it 's dere 
 An' it blow us near de coas' w'ere dey leev' de 
 
 sailor's ghos' 
 On de shore of Dead Man's Islan' till dey 
 
 almos' fill de air. 
 
 So de Captinne tak' de wheel, an' it mak' de 
 
 schooner feel 
 Jus' de sam' as ole man Baribeau is workin' 
 
 dere hese'f 
 "Well she know it 's life or deat', so she 's fightin' 
 
 hard for breat' 
 
 For wit' all dem wave a chokin' her, it 's leetle 
 she got lef. 
 
 Den de beeges' sea of all, stannin' up dere lak 
 
 a wall 
 Come along an' sweep de leetle " Rose Delima" 
 
 fore an' af 
 An' above de storm a cry, "Help, mon Dieu! 
 
 before I die." 
 
 An' dere 's no wan on de wheel house, an' 
 we hear dem spirit laugh. 
 207
 
 THE "ROSE DELIMA" 
 
 Dey 're lookin' for dead man, an' dey 're shoutin* 
 
 all dey can 
 Don't matter all de pile dey got dey want 
 
 anoder wan 
 An' now dey 're laughin' loud, for out of all de 
 
 crowd 
 
 Dey got no finer sailor boy dan Pierre of St. 
 Yvonne! 
 
 But look dere on de wheel ! w'at 's dat was seem 
 
 to steal 
 From now'ere, out of not'ing, till it reach de 
 
 pilot's place 
 An' steer de rudder too, lak de Captinne used 
 
 to do 
 
 So lak de Captinne's body, so lak de Cap- 
 tinne's face. 
 
 But well enough we know de poor boy 's gone 
 
 below, 
 Were hees bone will join de oder on de place 
 
 w'ere dead man be 
 An' we only see phantome of young Captinne 
 
 Pierre Guillaume 
 
 Dat sail de "Rose Delima" all night along de 
 sea. 
 
 208
 
 THE "ROSE DELIMA" 
 
 So we help heem all we can, kip de schooner 
 
 off de Ian' 
 Were bad spirit work de current dat was 
 
 pullin' us inside 
 JBut we fool dem all at las', an' we know de 
 
 danger 's pas' 
 
 Wen de sun come out an' fin' us floatin' on 
 de morning tide. 
 
 So de Captinne's work is done, an' nex' day de 
 
 schooner run 
 Wit' de sail all hangin' roun' her, to de port 
 
 of St. Simon. 
 Dat 's de way young Pierre Guillaume bring 
 
 de "Rose Delima" home 
 T'roo de wiT an' stormy wedder from St. 
 Pierre de Miquelon. 
 
 An' de leetle Virginie never look upon de sea 
 Since de tarn de "Rose Delima" 's comin' 
 
 home, 
 For she 's lef ' de worl' an' all ! but behin' de 
 
 convent wall 
 She don't forget her fader an' poor young 
 
 Pierre Guillaume. 
 14 209
 
 LITTLE MOUSE 
 
 Little Mouse 
 
 ET along leetle mouse, kick de snow up 
 
 behin' you 
 
 For it 's fine winter road we 're travel to-night 
 Wit' de moon an' de star shinin' up on de sky 
 
 dere 
 W'y it 's almos' de sam' as de broad day light. 
 
 De bell roun' your body it 's quick tune dey 're 
 
 playin' 
 But your foot 's kipin' tarn jus' as steady can 
 
 be, 
 
 Ah! you dance youse'f crazy if only I let you, 
 Ma own leetle pony petite souris. 
 
 You 'member w'en firse we be tryin' for broke 
 
 you 
 
 An' Joe Sauvageau bet hees two dollar bill 
 He can drive you alone by de bridge on de 
 
 reever 
 
 An' down near de place w'ere dey got de 
 beeg mill. 
 
 An' it 's new cariole too, is come from St. Felix 
 Jo-seph 's only buyin' it week before, 
 
 An' w'en he is passin' de road wit' hees trotter 
 Ev'ry body was stan' on de outside door. 
 
 210
 
 LITTLE MOUSE 
 
 An' dere he sit, sam' he don't care about not'ing 
 Hees foot on de dashboar', hees han' on de 
 line 
 
 Ev'ry dog on de place is come out for barkin' 
 An' all de young boy he was ronnin' behin'. 
 
 Wall! sir, Joe 's put on style leetle soon for hees 
 pleasure 
 
 For w'en de mill w'issle, you jomp lak de cat 
 An' nex' t'ing poor Joe is commencin' get busy, 
 
 Non ! I never see fine run-away lak dat. 
 
 'Way go de pony den 'way go de cariole, 
 
 Poor Joe say, "good-bye" on de foot of de 
 hill 
 
 An' all he can see of de sleigh de nex' morning 
 Is jus' about pay for hees two dollar bill. 
 
 Ah! your right nam' jus' den should be leetle 
 
 devil 
 
 An' not leetle mouse, de sam' you have now. 
 Wall! dat 's long ago, an' you 're gettin' more 
 
 quiet 
 Since tarn you was never done kickin' de row. 
 
 But I 'm not very sorry de firse day I see you 
 Settle down on de trot lak your fader he get 
 
 W'en he beat Sorel Boy on de ice at T'ree Reever 
 Bes' two on t'ree heat, an' win all de bet. 
 211
 
 STRATHCONA'S HORSE 
 
 Your moder she 's come off de Lachapelle stock 
 too 
 
 Ole Canayen blood from Berthier en haut 
 De bes' kin' of horse never look on de halter 
 
 So it is n't moche wonder you know how to go. 
 
 Dat 's church bell we 're off dere on de hillside 
 Get along leetle mouse, for we must n't be 
 
 late, 
 Fin' your way t'roo de res' of dem crowdin' de 
 
 roadside 
 
 You '11 never get better chance showin' your 
 gait. 
 
 Wall! church is all over, an' Josephine 's comin' 
 For drive wit' us home on her gran'moder's 
 
 house 
 
 So tak' your own tarn an' don't be on de hurry 
 Your slowes' gait 's quick enough now, leetle 
 mouse. 
 
 Strathcona's Horse 
 
 (Dedicated to Lord Strathcona) 
 
 /~\ I was thine,and thou wert mine, and ours 
 
 the boundless plain, 
 
 Where the winds of the North, my gallant steed, 
 ruffled thy tawny mane,
 
 STRATHCONA'S HORSE 
 
 But the summons hath come with roll of drum, 
 
 and bugles ringing shrill, 
 Startling the prairie antelope, the grizzly of the 
 
 hill. 
 
 'T is the voice of Empire calling, and the chil- 
 dren gather fast 
 From every land where the cross bar floats out 
 
 from the quivering mast; 
 So into the saddle I leap, my own, with bridle 
 
 swinging free, 
 And thy hoof-beats shall answer the trumpets 
 
 blowing across the sea. 
 Then proudly toss thy head aloft, nor think of 
 
 the foe to-morrow, 
 For he who dares to stay our course drinks deep 
 
 of the Cup of Sorrow. 
 
 Thy form hath pressed the meadow's breast, 
 where the sullen grey wolf hides, 
 
 The great red river of the North hath cooled 
 thy burning sides ; 
 
 Together we 've slept while the tempest swept 
 the Rockies' glittering chain; 
 
 And many a day the bronze centaur hath gal- 
 loped behind in vain. 
 
 But the sweet wild grass of mountain pass, and 
 the shimmering summer streams 
 
 Must vanish forevermore, perchance, into the 
 land of dreams ; 
 
 213
 
 JOHNNIE'S FIRST MOOSE 
 
 For the strong young North hath sent us forth 
 
 to battlefields far away, 
 And the trail that ends where Empire trends, 
 
 is the trail we ride to-day. 
 But proudly toss thy head aloft, nor think of 
 
 the foe to-morrow, 
 For he who bars Strathcona's Horse, drinks 
 
 deep of the Cup of Sorrow. 
 
 Johnnie's First Moose 
 
 cloud is hide de moon, but dere 's plain- 
 tee light above, 
 Steady, Johnnie, steady kip your head down 
 
 low, 
 
 Move de paddle leetle quicker, an' de ole canoe 
 we '11 shove 
 
 T'roo de water nice an' quiet 
 For de place we 're goin' try it 
 Is beyon' de silver birch dere 
 You can see it lak a church dere 
 Wen we 're passin' on de corner w'ere de lily 
 flower grow. 
 
 Was n't dat correc' w'at I 'm tolin' you jus' now? 
 Steady, Johnnie, steady kip your head down 
 
 low, 
 Never min', I '11 watch behin' me an' you 
 
 can watch de bow 
 214
 
 JOHNNIE'S FIRST MOOSE 
 
 An' you '11 see a leetle clearer 
 Wen canoe is comin' nearer 
 Dere she is now easy, easy, 
 For de win' is gettin' breezy, 
 An' we don't want not'ing smell us, till de 
 horn begin to blow 
 
 I remember long ago w'en ma fader tak' me out, 
 Steady, Johnnie, steady kip your head down 
 
 low, 
 
 Jus' de way I 'm takin' you, sir, hello! was 
 dat a shout? 
 
 Seems to me I t'ink I 'm hearin' 
 Somet'ing stirrin' on de clearin' 
 Were it stan' de lumber shaintee, 
 If it 's true, den you '11 have plaintee 
 Work to do in half a minute, if de moose don't 
 start to go. 
 
 An' now we 're on de shore, let us hide de ole 
 
 canoe, 
 Steady, Johnnie, steady kip your head down 
 
 low, 
 
 An' lie among de rushes, dat 's bes' t'ing we 
 can do, 
 
 For de ole boy may be closer 
 Dan anybody know, sir, 
 215
 
 JOHNNIE'S FIRST MOOSE 
 
 An' look out you don't be shakin' 
 Or de bad shot you '11 be makin' 
 But I 'm feelin' sam' way too, me, w'en I 
 was young, also 
 
 You ready for de call? here goes for number wan, 
 Steady, Johnnie, steady kip your head down 
 
 low, 
 
 Did you hear how nice I do it, an' how it 
 travel on 
 
 Till it reach across de reever. 
 Dat '11 geev' some moose de fever! 
 Wait now, Johnnie, don't you worry, 
 No use bein' on de hurry, 
 
 But lissen for de answer, it '11 come before you 
 know. 
 
 Por w'y you jomp lak dat? w'at 's matter wit' 
 
 your ear? 
 Steady, Johnnie, steady kip your head down 
 
 low 
 
 Tak' your finger off de trigger, dat was only 
 bird you hear, 
 
 Can't you tell de pine tree crickin' 
 Or de boule frog w'en he 's spikin' ? 
 Don't you know de grey owl singin' 
 From de beeg moose w'en he 's ringin' 
 Out hees challenge on de message your ole 
 gran'fader blow? 
 
 216
 
 JOHNNIE'S FIRST MOOSE 
 
 You 're lucky boy to-night, wit' hunter man 
 
 lak me ! 
 Steady, Johnnie, steady kip your head down 
 
 low 
 
 Can tole you all about it! H-s-ssh! dat 's 
 somet'ing now I see, 
 
 Dere he 's comin' t'roo de bushes, 
 So get down among de rushes, 
 Hear heem walk! I t'ink, by tender, 
 He mus' go near fourteen honder ! 
 Dat 's de feller I been watchin' all de evening, 
 I dunno. 
 
 I '11 geev' anoder call, jus' a leetle wan or two, 
 Steady, Johnnie, steady kip your head down 
 
 low 
 
 Wen he see dere 's no wan waitin' I wonder 
 w'at he '11 do? 
 
 But look out for here he 's comin' 
 Sa-pris-ti ! ma heart is drummin' ! 
 You can never get heem nearer 
 An' de moon is shinin' clearer, 
 W'at a fine shot you '11 be havin'! now 
 Johnnie let her go! 
 
 Bang! bang! you got heem sure! an' he'll 
 
 never run away 
 Nor feed among de lily on de shore of Wes- 
 
 sonneau, 
 
 217
 
 THE OLD PINE TREE 
 
 So dat 's your firse moose, Johnnie! wall! re- 
 member all I say 
 
 Does n't matter w'at you 're chasm', 
 Does n't matter w'at you 're facin', 
 Only watch de t'ing you 're doin' 
 If you don't, ba gosh! you 're ruin! 
 An' steady, Johnnie, steady kip your head 
 down low. 
 
 The Old Pine Tree 
 
 (Dedicated to the St. George Snowshoe Club) 
 
 "T ISTEN, my child," said the old pine 
 
 tree to the little one nestling near, 
 "For the storm clouds troop together to-night, 
 
 and the wind of the north I hear 
 And perchance there may come some echo of 
 
 the music of long ago, 
 The music that rang when the White Host 
 
 sang, marching across the snow." 
 
 '"Up and away Saint George! up thro' the 
 
 mountain gorge, 
 Over the plain where the tempest blows, and 
 
 the great white flakes are flying 
 Down the long narrow glen! faster my merry 
 
 men, 
 Follow the trail, tho' the shy moon hides, and 
 
 deeply the drifts are lying. " 
 218
 
 THE OLD PINE TREE 
 
 "Ah! mother," the little pine tree replied, 
 
 "you are dreaming again to-night 
 Of ghostly visions and phantom forms that 
 
 forever mock your sight 
 'T is true the moan of the winter wind comes 
 
 to my list'ning ear 
 But the White Host marching, I cannot see, 
 
 and their music I cannot hear." 
 
 "When the northern skies were all aflame 
 
 where the trembling banners swung, 
 When up in the vaulted heavens the moon of 
 
 the Snow-Shoe hung, 
 When the hurricane swept the hillside, and the 
 
 crested drifts ran high 
 Those were the nights, " said the old pine tree, 
 
 "the great White Host marched by." 
 
 And the storm grew fiercer, fiercer, and the 
 
 snow went hissing past, 
 But the little pine tree still listened, till she 
 
 heard above the blast 
 The music her mother loved to hear in the 
 
 nights of the long ago 
 And saw in the forest the white-clad Host 
 
 marching across the snow. 
 219
 
 LITTLE BATEESE 
 
 And loud they sang as they tramped along of 
 
 the glorious bygone days 
 When valley and hill re-echoed the snow- 
 
 shoer's hymn of praise 
 Till the shy moon gazed down smiling, and the 
 
 north wind paused to hear 
 And the old pine tree felt young again as the 
 
 little one nestling near. 
 
 "Up and away Saint George! up thro' the 
 
 mountain gorge. 
 Over the plain where the tempest blows, and 
 
 the great white flakes are flying. 
 Down the long narrow glen! faster my merry 
 
 men. 
 Follow the trail, tho' the shy moon hides, and 
 
 deeply the drifts are lying. " 
 
 Little Bateese 
 
 "V7"OU bad leetle boy, not moche you care 
 
 How busy you 're kipin' your poor gran'- 
 pere 
 
 Tryin' to stop you ev'ry day 
 Chasin' de hen aroun' de hay 
 W'y don't you geev' dem a chance to lay? 
 
 Leetle Bateese! 
 
 220
 
 LITTLE BATEESE 
 
 Off on de fiel' you f oiler de plough 
 Den w'en you 're tire you scare de cow 
 Sickin' de dog till dey jomp de wall 
 So de milk ain't good for not'ing at all 
 An' you 're only five an' a half dis fall, 
 
 Leetle Bateese! 
 
 Too sleepy for sayin' de prayer to-night? 
 Never min' I s'pose it '11 be all right 
 Say dem to-morrow ah ! dere he go ! 
 Fas' asleep in a minute or so 
 An' he 11 stay lak dat till de rooster crow, 
 
 Leetle Bateese! 
 
 Den wake us up right away toute suite 
 Lookin' for somet'ing more to eat, 
 Makin' me t'ink of dem long leg crane 
 Soon as dey swaller, dey start again, 
 I wonder your stomach don't get no pain, 
 
 Leetle Bateese! 
 
 But see heem now lyin' dere in bed, 
 Look at de arm onderneat' hees head; 
 If he grow lak dat till he 's twenty year 
 I bet he '11 be stronger dan Louis Cyr 
 An' beat all de voyageurs leevin' here, 
 
 Leetle Bateese!
 
 DONAL' CAMPBELL 
 
 Jus' feel de muscle along hees back, 
 
 Won't geev' heem moche bodder for carry pack 
 
 On de long portage, any size canoe, 
 
 Dere 's not many t'ing dat boy won't do 
 
 For he 's got double-joint on hees body too, 
 
 LeetleBateese! 
 
 But leetle Bateese! please don't forget 
 We rader you 're stayin' de small boy yet, 
 So chase de chicken an' mak' dem scare 
 An' do w'at you lak wit' your ole gran'pere 
 For w'en you 're beeg feller he won't be dere 
 
 Leetle Bateese! 
 
 Donal 1 Campbell 
 
 "T\ONAL' CAMPBELL Donal' Bane- 
 sailed away across the ocean 
 
 With the tartans of Clan Gordon, to the Indies' 
 distant shore, 
 
 But on Dargai's lonely hillside, Donal' Camp- 
 bell met the foeman, 
 
 And the glen of Athol Moray will never see 
 him more! 
 
 O! the wailing of the women, O! the storm of 
 
 bitter sorrow 
 Sweeping like the wintry torrent thro' Athol 
 
 Moray's glen 
 
 222
 
 DONAL' CAMPBELL 
 
 When the black word reached the clansmen, 
 
 that young Donal' Bane had fallen 
 In the red glare of the battle, with the gallant 
 ^ Gordon men ! 
 
 Far from home and native sheiling, with the 
 sun of India o'er him 
 
 Blazing down its cruel hatred on the white- 
 faced men below 
 
 Stood young Donal' with his comrades, like the 
 hound of ghostly Fingal 
 
 Eager, waiting for the summons to leap up 
 against the foe 
 
 Hark! at last! the pipes are pealing out the 
 
 welcome Caber Feidh 
 And wild the red blood rushes thro' every 
 
 Highland vein 
 They breathe the breath of battle, the children 
 
 of the Gael, 
 And fiercely up the hillside, they charge and 
 
 charge again 
 
 And the grey eye of the Highlands, now is 
 
 dark as blackest midnight, 
 The history of their fathers is written on each face, 
 Of border creach and foray, of never yielding 
 
 conflict 
 Of all the memories shrouding a stern uncon- 
 
 quered race! 
 
 223
 
 DONAL' CAMPBELL 
 
 And up the hillside, up the mountain, while 
 
 the war-pipes shrilly clamour 
 Bayonet thrusting, broadsword cleaving, the 
 
 Northern soldiers fought 
 Till the sun of India saw them victors o'er the 
 
 dusky foemen, 
 For who can stay the Celtic hand when Celtic 
 
 blood is hot? 
 
 But the corse of many a clansman from the far- 
 off Scottish Highlands 
 
 'Mid the rocks of savage Dargai is lying cold 
 and still 
 
 With the death-dew on its forehead, and young 
 Donal' Campbell's tartan 
 
 Bears a deeper stain of purple than the heather 
 of the hill! 
 
 Mourn him! Mourn him thro' the mountains, 
 
 wail him women of Clan Campbell ! 
 Let the Coronach be sounded till it reach the 
 
 Indian shore 
 For your beautiful has fallen in the foremost 
 
 of the battle 
 And the glen of Athol Moray will never see 
 
 him more. 
 
 224
 
 THE DUBLIN FUSILIER 
 
 The Dublin Fusilier 
 
 11JERE 's to you, Uncle Kruger! slainte"! 
 
 an' slainte galore. 
 You 're a dacint ould man, begorra; never 
 
 mind if you are a Boer. 
 So with heart an' a half ma bouchal, we '11 
 
 drink to your health to-night 
 For yourself an' your farmer sojers gave us a 
 
 damn good fight. 
 
 I was dramin' of Kitty Farrell, away in the 
 Gap o' Dunloe, 
 
 When the song of the bugle woke me, ringin' 
 across Glencoe; 
 
 An' once in a while a bullet came pattherin' 
 from above, 
 
 That tould us the big brown fellows were send- 
 in' us down their love. 
 
 'T was a kind of an invitation, an' written in 
 
 such a han' 
 That a Chinaman could n't refuse it not to 
 
 spake of an Irishman. 
 So the pickets sent back an answer. "We 're 
 
 comin' with right good will," 
 Along what they call the kopje, tho' to me it 
 
 looked more like a hill. 
 is 225
 
 "Fall in on the left," sez the captain, "my 
 
 men of the Fusiliers; 
 You '11 see a great fight this morning like 
 
 you have n't beheld for years. " 
 "Faith, captain dear," sez the sergeant, "you 
 
 can bet your Majuba sword 
 If the Dutch is as willin' as we are, you never 
 
 spoke truer word." 
 
 So we scrambled among the bushes, the bowl- 
 ders an' rocks an' all, 
 
 Like the gauger's men still-huntin' on the 
 mountains of Donegal; 
 
 We doubled an' turned an' twisted the same 
 as a hunted hare, 
 
 While the big guns peppered each other over 
 us in the air. 
 
 Like steam from the divil's kettle the kopje 
 
 was bilin' hot, 
 For the breeze of the Dutchman's bullets was 
 
 the only breeze we got ; 
 An' many a fine boy stumbled, many a brave 
 
 lad died, 
 When the Dutchman's message caught him 
 
 there on the mountainside. 
 226
 
 THE DUBLIN FUSILIER 
 
 Little Nelly O'Brien, God help her! over 
 
 there at ould Ballybay, 
 Will wait for a Transvaal letter till her face an' 
 
 her hair is grey, 
 For I seen young Crohoore on a stretcher, an' 
 
 I knew the poor boy was gone 
 When. I spoke to the ambulance doctor, an' he 
 
 nodded an' then passed -on. 
 
 "Steady there!" cried the captain, "we must 
 
 halt for a moment here." 
 An' he spoke like a man in trainin', full winded 
 
 an' strong an' clear. 
 So we threw ourselves down on the kopje, 
 
 weary an' tired as death, 
 Waitin' the captain's orders, waitin' to get- a 
 
 breath. 
 
 It 's strange all the humors an' fancies that 
 
 comes to a man like me; 
 But the smoke of the battle risin' took me 
 
 across the sea 
 It 's the mist of Benbo I 'm seein' ; an' the rock 
 
 that we '11 capture soon 
 Is the rock where I shot the eagle, when I was 
 
 a small gossoon. 
 
 227
 
 THE DUBLIN FUSILIER 
 
 I close my eyes for a minute, an' hear my poor 
 
 mother say, 
 "Patrick, avick, my darlin', you're surely not 
 
 goin' away 
 To join the red-coated sojers?" but the 
 
 blood in me was strong 
 If your sire was a Connaught Ranger, sure 
 
 where would his son belong? 
 
 Hark! whisht! do you hear the music comin' 
 
 . up from the camp below? 
 An odd note or two when the Maxims take 
 
 breath for a second or so, 
 Liftin' itself on somehow, stealin' its way up 
 
 here, 
 Knowin' there 's waitin' to hear it, many an 
 
 Irish ear. 
 
 Augh ! Garryowen ! you 're the jewel ! an' we 
 
 charged on the Dutchman's guns, 
 An' covered the bloody kopje, like a Gal way 
 
 greyhound runs, 
 At the top of the hill they met us, with faces 
 
 all set and grim; 
 But they could n't take the bayonet that 's 
 
 the trouble with most of thim. 
 228
 
 DREAMS 
 
 So of course, they '11 be praisin' the Royals 
 
 an' men of the Fusiliers, 
 An' the newspapers help to dry up the widows 
 
 an' orphans' tears, 
 An' they '11 write a new name on the colors 
 
 that is, if there 's room for more 
 An' we '11 follow them thro' the battle, the same 
 
 as we 've done before. 
 
 But here 's to you, Uncle Kruger ! slainte* ! an* 
 
 slainte* galore. 
 After all, your 're a dacint Christian, never 
 
 mind if you are a Boer. 
 So with heart an' a half, ma bouchal, we '11 
 
 drink to your health to-night, 
 For yourself an' your brown-faced Dutchmen 
 
 gave us a damn good fight. 
 
 Dreams 
 
 "D ORD a Plouffe, Bord a Plouffe, 
 
 Wat do I see w'en I dream of you? 
 A shore w'ere de water is racin' by, 
 A small boy lookin', an' wonderin' w'y 
 He can't get fedder for goin' fly 
 Lak de hawk makin' ring on de summer sky, 
 Dat 's w'at I see. 
 229
 
 DREAMS 
 
 Bord Plouffe, Bord a Plouffe, 
 Wat do I hear w'en I dream of you? 
 Too many t'ing for sleepin' well! 
 De song of de ole tarn cariole bell, 
 De voice of dat girl from Sainte Angele 
 (I geev' her a ring was mark "fidele") 
 Dat 's w'at I hear. 
 
 Bord a Plouffe, Bord a Plouffe, 
 Wat do I smoke w'en I dream of you? 
 Havana cigar from across de sea, 
 An' get dem for not'ing too? No siree! 
 Dere 's only wan kin' of tabac for me. 
 An' it grow on de Riviere des Prairies 
 Dat 's w'at I smoke. 
 
 Bord a Plouffe, Bord a Plouffe, 
 How do I feel w'en I t'ink of you? 
 Sick, sick, for de ole place way back dere 
 An' to sleep on ma own leetle room upstair 
 Were de ghos' on de chimley mak' me scare 
 I 'd geev' more monee dan I can spare 
 Dat 's how I feel. 
 
 Bord a Plouffe, Bord a Plouffe, 
 Wat will I do w'en I 'm back wit* you? 
 I 'II buy de farm of Bonhomme Martel, 
 Long tarn he 's been waitin' a chance to sell, 
 230
 
 
 THE OLD SEXTON 
 
 Den pass de nex' morning on Sainte Angele, 
 An' if she 's not marry dat girl very well, 
 Dat 's w'at I '11 do. 
 
 The Old Sexton 
 
 T KNOW very well 't wa.s purty hard case 
 
 If dere 's not on de worl' some beeger place 
 Dan village of Cote St. Paul, 
 But we got mebbe sixty-five house or more 
 Wit' de blacksmit' shop an' two fine store 
 Not to speak of de church an' de city hall. 
 
 An' of course on village lak dat you fin' 
 Some very nice girl if you have a min' 
 To look aroun', an' we got dem too 
 But de fines' of all never wear a ring, 
 Since firse I 'm t'inkin' of all dem t'ing, 
 Was daughter of ole Narcisse Beaulieu. 
 
 Narcisse he 's bedeau on de beeg church dere, 
 He also look affer de presbytere, 
 An' leev on de house close by, 
 On Sunday he 's watchin' de leetle boys, 
 Stoppin' dem kickin' up too much noise, 
 An' he bury de peop' w'en dey 're comin' die. 
 231
 
 THE OLD SEXTON 
 
 So dat 's w'at he do, Narcisse Beaulieu, 
 An' it 's not very easy I 'm toliii 1 you, 
 But a purty large heavy load, 
 For on summer de cow she was run aroun' 
 An' eat all de flower on de Cure's groun' 
 An' before he can ketch her, p-s-s-t ! she 's down 
 de road. 
 
 Dat 's not'ing at all, for w'en winter come 
 Narcisse got plaintee more work ba gum ! 
 Shovellin' snow till hees back was sore, 
 Makin' some track for de horse an' sleigh, 
 Kipin' look out dey don't run away, 
 An' freezin' outside on de double door. 
 
 But w'enever de vault on de church is fill 
 Wit' de peop' was waitin' down dere ontil 
 Dey can go on de cimetiere, 
 For fear dem student will come aroun' 
 An' tak' de poor dead folk off to town 
 Narcisse offen watch for dem all night dere. 
 
 An' de girl Josephine she 's her fader's pet, 
 He never see nobody lak her yet, 
 So w'en he 's goin' on St. Jerome 
 For travel about on some leetle tour 
 An' lef her alone on de house, I 'm sure 
 De house she 's all right w'en he 's comin' 
 home. 
 
 232
 
 THE OLD SEXTON 
 
 Wall ! nearly t'ree year is come an' go, 
 De quietes' year de village know, 
 For dem student don't show hees face, 
 An' de peop' is beginnin' to ax w'at for 
 Dey 're alway goin' on He Bizard 
 An' never pass on our place. 
 
 But it 's bully tarn for de ole Narcisse, 
 An' w'en he 's lettin' heem go de pries' 
 For stay away two t'ree day 
 He t'ink of course it was purty good chance, 
 So he buy heem new coat an' pair of pants, 
 An' go see hees frien' noder side de bay. 
 
 An' dat very sam' night, ba gosh! it seem 
 De girl 's not dreamin' some pleasan' dream 
 For she visit de worse place never seen 
 Down on T'ree Reever, an' near Kebeck 
 Were robber-man's chokin' her on de neck 
 De poor leetle Josephine ! 
 
 So she 's risin' up den and she tak' de gun 
 An' off on de winder she quickly run 
 For fear she might need a shot 
 An' dem student he 's comin' across de square 
 Right on de front of de cimetiere 
 An' carryin' somet'ing you know w'at! 
 233
 
 THE OLD SEXTON 
 
 So she 's takin' good aim on de beeges' man 
 
 An 1 pull de trigger de hard she can, 
 
 An' he 's yellin' an' down he go, 
 
 Hees frien' dey say not'ing, but clear out quick, 
 
 Dat 's way Josephine she was playin' trick 
 
 On feller was treatin' poor dead folk so! 
 
 Den she kick up a row an' begin to feel 
 Very sorry right off for de boy she keel 
 An' de nex' t'ing she 's startin' cry 
 An' call on her fader an' moder too, 
 Poor leetle Josephine Beaulieu, 
 An' wishin' she 'd lak to die. 
 
 But she did n't die den, an' he 's leevin' yet- 
 Dat feller was comin' so near hees deat' 
 For she 's nursin' heem back to life, 
 Dey 're feexin' it someway, I dunno how, 
 But dey 're marry an' leev' in de city now 
 An' she 's makin' heem firse class wife. 
 
 An' Narcisse hese'f he was alway say, 
 " It 's fonny t'ing how it come dat way 
 But I 'm not very sorry at all, 
 Course I know ma son he 's not doin' right, 
 But man he was haulin' aroun' dat night 
 Is worse ole miser on Cote St. Paul." 
 234
 
 CHILD THOUGHTS 
 
 Child Thoughts Written to Commemorate 
 the Anniversary of my Brother 
 Tom's Birthday 
 
 f~\ MEMORY, take my hand to-day 
 
 And lead me thro' the darkened bridge 
 Washed by the wild Atlantic spray 
 
 And spanning many a wind-swept ridge 
 Of sorrow, grief, of love and joy, 
 
 Of youthful hopes and manly fears! 
 
 O ! let me cross the bridge of years 
 And see myself again a boy ! 
 
 The shadows pass I see the light, 
 
 O morning light, how clear and strong! 
 
 My native skies are smiling bright, 
 No more I grope my way along, 
 
 It comes, the murmur of the tide 
 Upon my ear I hear the cry 
 Of wandering sea birds as they fly 
 
 In trooping squadrons far and near. 
 
 The breeze that blows o'er Mullaghmore 
 I feel against my boyish cheek 
 
 The white-walled huts that strew the shore 
 From Castlegal to old Belleek, 
 235
 
 CHILD THOUGHTS 
 
 The fisher folk of Donegal, 
 
 Kindly of heart and strong of arm, 
 
 Who plough the ocean's treacherous farm, 
 
 How plainly I behold them all! 
 
 The thrush's song, the blackbird's note, 
 
 The wren within the hawthorn hedge, 
 The robin's swelling vibrant throat, 
 
 The leveret crouching in the sedge ! 
 In those dear days, ah! what was school? 
 
 When Nature made our pulses thrill! 
 
 The lessons we remember still 
 Were learnt at Nature's own footstool! 
 
 "The hounds are out! the beagles chase 
 Along the slopes of Tawley's plain!" 
 
 I rise and follow in the race 
 
 Till fox, or hare, or both are slain, 
 
 With heart ablaze, I loose the reins 
 Of all my childish fierce desire, 
 My faith ! 't is Ireland plants the fire 
 
 And iron in her children's veins ! 
 
 The mountain linnet whistles sweet 
 Among the gorse of summer-time, 
 
 As up the hill with eager feet 
 
 The sun of morning sees me climb 
 236
 
 BATEESE AND HIS LITTLE DECOYS 
 
 Until at last I sink to rest 
 
 Where heatherbells swing to the tune 
 That Benbo breezes softly croon 
 
 A tired child on the mother's breast! 
 
 And now in wisdom's riper years, 
 Ah, wisdom! what a price we pay 
 
 Of sorrow, grief, of smiles and tears, 
 Before we reach that wiser day! 
 
 We meet to greet in joy and mirth 
 The white-haired parent of us all 
 Our childhood's memories to recall 
 
 And bless the land that gave us birth. 
 
 Bateese and his Little Decoys 
 
 I 'm very very tire Marie, 
 
 I wonder if I 'm able hoi' a gun 
 An' me dat 's alway risin' wit de sun 
 An' travel on de water, an' paddle ma canoe 
 An' trap de mink an' beaver de fall an' winter 
 
 t'roo, 
 But now I t'ink dat fun is gone forever. 
 
 Wall! I 'm mebbe stayin' long enough, 
 For eighty-four I see it on de spring; 
 
 Dough ma fader he was feelin' purty tough 
 An' at ninety year can do mos' ev'ry t'ing, 
 237
 
 BATEESE AND HIS LITTLE DECOYS 
 
 But I never know de feller, don't care how ole 
 
 he come, 
 Dat is n't sure to t'ink he 's got anoder year, 
 
 ba gum! 
 Before he lif de anchor for de las' tam! 
 
 It 's not so easy lyin' on de bed, 
 
 An' lissen to de wil' bird on de bay, 
 Dey know dat poor Bateese is nearly dead, 
 Or dey would n't have such good fun ev'ry 
 
 day! 
 Put ma gun upon de piller near de winder, jus' 
 
 for luck, 
 Den bring w'ere I can see dem, ma own nice 
 
 leetle duck 
 So I have some talk wit' dem mese'f dis 
 
 morning. 
 
 Ah! dere you 're comin' now! mes beaux 
 
 canards! 
 
 Dat 's very pleasan' day, an' how you feel? 
 Of course you dunno w'at I want you for, 
 
 Wall ! lately I 've been t'inkin' a good deal 
 Of all de fuss I 'm havin' show you w'at you 
 
 ought to do 
 
 Wen de cole win' of October de blin' is blow- 
 ing t'roo 
 
 An' de bluebill 's flyin' up an' down de reever. 
 238
 
 BATEESE AND HIS LITTLE DECOYS 
 
 O ! de bodder I 'm havin' wit' you all ! 
 
 It's makin' me feel ole before ma tarn! 
 
 Stan' over dere upon de right again de wall, 
 Ma-dame Lapointe I 'm geevin' you Ma- 
 dame 
 
 .'Cos you walk aroun' de sam' way as ma cousin 
 Aurelie 
 
 An' lak youse'f she 's havin' de large large 
 familee, 
 
 Now let us see you don't forget your lesson! 
 
 Qu-a-a-ck! you 're leetle hoarse to-day, don't 
 
 you t'ink? 
 Quack! quack! quack! dat 's right Mam- 
 
 zelle Louise ! 
 You go lak dat, an' quicker dan a wink, 
 
 It '11 ring across de lake along de breeze, 
 Till de wiT bird dey will lissen up de reever 
 
 far an' near, 
 An' tole de noder wan too, de musique dey was 
 
 hear 
 An' dey '11 fly aroun' our head before we know it. 
 
 Come here, Frangois, an' min' you watch 
 
 youse'f ! 
 
 You can't forget de las' day we was out, 
 Your breat' dere 's very leetle of it -lef ' 
 An' I tole you it was better shut your mout* 
 239
 
 BATEESE AND HIS LITTLE DECOYS 
 
 Wen you start dat fancy yellin,' for it soun' 
 
 de sam' to me 
 Lak de devil he was goin' on de beeges' kin' 
 
 of spree, 
 Francois! dat 's not de way for mak' de 
 
 shootin' ! 
 
 Wan two t'ree, now let us hear you please, 
 
 It is n't very hard job if you try, 
 Purten' you 're feelin' lonesome lak Louise 
 
 An' want to see de sweetheart bimeby, 
 Quack! quack! quack! 
 
 O! stop dat screechin', don't never spik no more 
 For if anyt'ing, sapree, tonnerre ! you 're worser 
 
 dan before, 
 I wonder w'at you do wit' all your schoolin'! 
 
 Come out from onderneat' de bed, Lisette, 
 
 I believe you was de fattes' of de lot; 
 It 's handy too of course, for you never feel de 
 
 wet, 
 An' w'en you lak to try it, O! w'at a voice 
 
 you got! 
 So let us play it 's blowin' hard, an' duck is up 
 
 de win' 
 An' you want to reach dem sure now we 're 
 
 ready for begin, 
 
 Hooraw! an' never min' de noise dat you're 
 makin'. 
 
 240
 
 BATEESE AND HIS LITTLE DECOYS 
 
 Quack! quack! quack! quack! O! let me 
 
 tak' 'de gun 
 For I would n't be astonish w'en Lisette is 
 
 get de start, 
 Roun' de house dey '11 come a-flyin', an' den 
 
 we '11 have de fun! 
 Yass, yass, kip up de flappin', O! ain't 
 
 she got de heart! 
 Not many duck can beat her, an' I wish I had 
 
 some more, 
 Can mak' de song lak dat upon de water! 
 
 Dat 's very funny how it ketch de crowd ! 
 
 An' now dey 're goin' all de younger wan ! 
 But if you don't stop singin' out so loud, 
 
 I 'm sorry I mus' tole you all begone, 
 'Cos I want to go to sleep, for I 'm very, very 
 
 tire, 
 An' de shiver 's comin' on me ! so Marie poke 
 
 up de fire 
 An' mebbe I '11 feel better on de morning. 
 
 De leetle duck may call on de spring tarn an' 
 
 detail 
 
 W'en dey see de wiT bird flyin' on de air 
 Dey may cry aroun' hees door, but he '11 never 
 
 come no more 
 For .showin' dem de lesson! ole Jean Bateese 
 
 Belair. 
 16 241
 
 PHIL-O-RUM'S CANOE 
 
 Phil-o-Rum's Canoe 
 
 MA ole canoe! w'at 's matter wit' you, 
 
 an' w'y was you be so slow? 
 Don't I work hard enough on de paddle, an* 
 
 still you don't seem to go 
 No win' at all on de fronte side, an' current 
 
 she don't be strong, 
 
 Den w'y are you lak lazy feller, too sleepy for 
 move along? 
 
 "I 'member de tarn w'en you jomp de sam' as 
 
 deer wit' de wolf behin' 
 An' brochet on de top de water, you scare 
 
 heem mos' off hees min'; 
 But fish don't care for you now at all, only jus' 
 
 mebbe wink de eye, 
 For he know it 's easy git out de way w'en you 
 
 was a passin' by." 
 
 I 'm spikin' dis way jus' de oder day w'en I 'm 
 
 out wit' de ole canoe, 
 Crossin' de point w'ere I see las' fall wan very 
 
 beeg caribou, 
 W'en somebody say, "Phil-o-rum, mon vieux, 
 
 wat 's matter wit' you youse'f?" 
 An' who do you s'pose was talkin'? w'y de 
 
 poor ole canoe shese'f. 
 242
 
 PHIL-0-RUM'S CANOE 
 
 O yass, I 'm scare w'en I 'm sittin' dere, an' 
 
 she 's callin' ma nam' dat way: 
 "Phil-o-rum Juneau, w'y you spik so moche, 
 
 you 're off on de head to-day 
 Can't be you forget ole feller, you an' me 
 
 we 're not too young, 
 An' if I 'm lookin' so ole lak you, I t'ink I 
 
 will close ma tongue. 
 
 " You should feel ashame; for you 're alway 
 
 blame, w'en it is n't ma fault at all 
 For I 'm tryin' to do bes' I can for you on 
 
 summer-tarn, spring, an' fall. 
 How offen you drown on de reever if I 'm not 
 
 lookin' out for you 
 W'en you 're takin' too moche on de w'isky 
 
 some night comin' down de Soo. 
 
 "De firse tarn we go on de Wessoneau no fel- 
 ler can beat us den, 
 
 For you 're purty strong man wit' de paddle, 
 but dat 's long ago ma frien', 
 
 An' win' she can blow off de mountain, an' 
 tender an' rain may come," 
 
 But camp see us bote on de evening 
 you know dat was true Phil-o-rum. 
 243
 
 PHIL-O-RUM'S CANOE 
 
 "An' who 's your horse too, but your ole 
 
 canoe, an' w'en you feel cole an' wet 
 Who was your house w'en I 'm upside down 
 
 an' onder de roof you get, 
 Wit' rain ronnin' down ma back, Bapteme! till 
 
 I 'm gettin' de rheumateez, 
 An' I never say not 'ing at all, moi-mme, but 
 
 let you do jus' you please. 
 
 "You t'ink it was right, kip me out all night 
 
 on reever side down below, 
 An' even 'Bon Soir' you was never say, but 
 
 off on de camp you go 
 Leffin' your poor ole canoe behin' lyin' dere 
 
 on de groun' 
 Watchin' de moon on de water, an' de bat 
 
 flyin' all aroun'. 
 
 "O! dat 's lonesome t'ing hear de grey owl 
 
 sing up on de beeg pine tree 
 An' many long night she kip me awake till sun 
 
 on de eas' I see, 
 An' den you come down on de morning for 
 
 start on some more voyage. 
 An' only t'ing decen' you do all day is carry 
 
 me on portage. 
 
 244
 
 PHIL-O-RUM'S CANOE 
 
 "Dat's way Phil-o-rum, rheumateez she 
 
 come, wit' pain ronnin' troo ma side 
 Wan leetle hole here, noder beeg wan dere, dat 
 
 not'ing can never hide; 
 Don't do any good fix me up agen, no matter 
 
 how moche you try, 
 For w'en we come ole an' our work she 's 
 
 done, bote man an' canoe mus' die." 
 
 Wall! she talk dat way mebbe mos' de day, 
 
 till we 're passin' some beaver dam 
 An' wan de young beaver he 's mak' hees tail 
 
 come down on de water flam! 
 I never see de canoe so scare, she jomp nearly 
 
 two, t'ree feet 
 I t'ink she was goin' for ronne away, an' she 
 
 shut up de mout' toute suite. 
 
 It mak' me feel queer, de strange t'ing I hear, 
 
 an' I 'm glad she don't spik no more, 
 But soon as we fin' ourse'f arrive over dere on 
 
 de noder shore 
 I tak' dat canoe lak de lady, an' carry her off 
 
 wit' me, 
 For I 'm sorry de way I treat her, an' she 
 
 know more dan me, sapree! 
 245
 
 THE LOG JAM 
 
 Yass! dat 's smart canoe, an' I know it 's true, 
 
 w'at she 's spikin' wit' me dat day, 
 I 'm not de young feller I use to be w'en work 
 
 she was only play; 
 An' I know I was comin' closer on place w'ere 
 
 I mus' tak' care 
 Were de mos' worse current 's de las' wan too, 
 
 de current of Dead Riviere. 
 
 You can only steer, an' if rock be near, wit' 
 
 wave dashin' all aroun', 
 Better mak' leetle prayer, for on Dead Riviere 
 
 some very smart man get drown ; 
 But if you be locky an' watch youse'f, mebbe 
 
 reever won't seem so wide, 
 An' firse t'ing you know you '11 ronne ashore, 
 
 safe on de noder side. 
 
 The Log Jam 
 
 P\ERE 's a beeg jam up de reever, w'ere 
 
 rapide is runnin' fas', 
 An' de log we cut las' winter is takin' it all 
 
 de room; 
 So boss of de gang is swearin', for not'ing at 
 
 all can pass 
 
 An' float away down de current till some- 
 body break de boom.- 
 246
 
 THE LOG JAM 
 
 "Here's for de man will tak' de job, holiday 
 
 for a week 
 Extra monee w'en pay day come, an' ten 
 
 dollar, suit of clothes. 
 'T isn't so hard work run de log, if only you 
 
 do it quick 
 
 Were 's de man of de gang den is ready 
 to say, ' Here goes? ' ' 
 
 Dere was de job for a feller, handy an' young 
 
 an' smart, 
 Willin' to tak' hees chances, willin' to risk 
 
 hees life. 
 'Cos many a t'ing is safer, dan tryin' de boom 
 
 to start, 
 
 For if de log wance ketch you, dey 're cut- 
 tin' you lak a knife. 
 
 Aleck Lachance he lissen, an' answer heem 
 
 right away 
 "Marie Louise dat 's leevin' off on de shore 
 
 close by 
 She 's sayin' de word was mak' me mos' hap- 
 
 pies' man to-day 
 
 An' if you ax de reason I 'm ready to go, 
 dat'sw'y." 
 
 247
 
 THE LOG JAM 
 
 Pierre Delorme he 's spikin' den, an' ! but 
 
 he 's lookin' glad. 
 "Dis morning de sam' girl tole me, she mus' 
 
 say to me, ' Good-bye Pierre. ' 
 So no wan can stop me goin', for I feel I was 
 
 comin' mad 
 
 An' wedder I see to-morrow, dat 's not'ing, 
 for I don't care. " 
 
 Aleck Lachance was steady, he 's bully boy all 
 
 aroun', 
 Alway sendin' de monee to hees moder 
 
 away below, 
 Now an' den savin' a leetle for buyin' de house 
 
 an' groun', 
 
 An' never done t'inkin', t'inkin' of Marie 
 Louise Lebeau. 
 
 Pierre was a half-breed feller, we call heem de 
 
 grand Nor' Wes' 
 Dat is de place he 's leevin' w'en he work 
 
 for de Compagnie, 
 Dey say he 's marry de squaw dere, never min' 
 
 about all de res' 
 
 An' affer he get hees monee, he 's de boy 
 for de jamboree! 
 
 248
 
 THE LOG JAM 
 
 Ev'ry wan start off cheerin' w'en dey pass on 
 
 de log out dere 
 Jompin' about lak monkey, Aleck an' Pierre 
 
 Delorme. 
 Workin' de sam' as twenty, an' runnin' off 
 
 ev'ryw'ere, 
 
 An' busy on all de places, lak beaver before 
 de storm. 
 
 Den we hear some wan shoutin', an' dere was 
 
 dat crazy girl, 
 Marie Louise, on de hillside, cryin' an' raisin' 
 
 row. 
 Couldn't do not'ing worser! mos' foolish t'ing 
 
 on de worl' 
 
 For Pierre Delorme an' Aleck was n't 
 workin' upon de scow. 
 
 Bote of dem turn aroun' dere w'en girl is com- 
 
 mencin' cry, 
 Lak woman I wance remember, got los' on 
 
 de bush t'ree day, 
 "Look how de log is movin'! I'm seein' it 
 
 wit' ma eye, 
 
 Come back out of all dem danger!" an' den 
 she was faint away. 
 249
 
 THE LOG JAM 
 
 Ten year I been reever driver, an' mebbe 
 
 know something too, 
 An' dere was n't a man don't watch for de 
 
 minute dem log she go; 
 But never a word from de boss dere, stannin' 
 
 wit' all hees crew, 
 
 So how she can see dem movin' don't ax 
 me, for I dunno. 
 
 Hitch dem all up togeder, t'ousan' horse crazy 
 
 mad 
 Only a couple of feller for han'le dem ev'ry 
 
 wan, 
 Scare dem wit' t'onder, an' lightning, an' den 't 
 
 is n't half so bad 
 
 As log runnin' down de rapide, affer de 
 boom she 's gone. 
 
 See dem nex' day on de basin, you t'ink dey 
 
 was t'roo de fight 
 Cut wit' de sword an' bullet, lyin' along de 
 
 shore 
 You 'd pity de log, I 'm sure, an' say 't was 
 
 terrible sight 
 
 But man goin' t'roo de sam' t'ing, you 'd 
 pity dat man some more. 
 250
 
 THE LOG JAM 
 
 An' Pierre w'en he see dem goin' an' log jom- 
 
 pin' up an' down 
 De sign of de cross he 's makin' an' drive on 
 
 de water dere, 
 He know it 's all up hees chances, an' he rader 
 
 be goin' drown 
 
 Dan ketch by de rollin' timber, an' dat 's 
 how he go, poor Pierre. 
 
 Aleck's red shirt is blazin' off w'ere we hear de 
 
 log 
 Crackin' away an' bangin', sam' as a honder 
 
 gun, 
 Lak' sun on de morning tryin' to peep t'roo 
 
 de reever fog 
 
 But Aleck's red shirt is redder dan ever I see 
 de sun. 
 
 An' w'en dey 're tryin' wake her: Marie 
 
 Louise Lebeau, 
 On her neck dey fin' a locket, she 's kipin' so 
 
 nice an' warm, 
 An' dey 're tolin' de funny story, de funnies' 
 
 I dunno 
 
 For de face, BaptSme! dey see dere, was de 
 half-breed Pierre Delorme ! 
 251
 
 THE CANADIAN MAGPIE 
 
 The Canadian Magpie 
 
 "JV/TOS* ev'rywan lak de robin 
 
 An' it 's pleasan' for hear heem sing, 
 Affer de winter 's over 
 
 An' it 's comin' anoder spring. 
 De snow 's hardly off de mountain 
 
 An' it 's cole too among de pine 
 But you know w'en he sing, de sout' win* 
 
 Is crowdin' heem close behin'. 
 
 An' mebbe you hear de grosbec 
 
 Sittin' above de nes' 
 An' you see by de way he 's goin' 
 
 De ole man 's doin' hees bes' 
 Makin' de wife an' baby 
 
 Happy as dey can be 
 An' proud he was come de fader 
 
 Such fine leetle familee. 
 
 De gouglou of course he 's nicer 
 
 Dan many de bird dat fly, 
 Dunno wa't we do widout heem, 
 
 But off en I wonder w'y 
 He can't stay quiet a minute 
 
 Lak res' of de small oiseaux 
 An' finish de song he 's startin' 
 
 Till whish ! an' away he go ! 
 252
 
 THE CANADIAN MAGPIE 
 
 Got not'ing to say agen dem, 
 
 De gouglou an' all de res' 
 'Cept only dey lak de comfort, 
 
 An' come w'en it suit dem bes' 
 For soon as de summer 's passin' 
 
 An' leaf is begin to fall 
 You '11 walk t'roo de wood an' medder 
 
 An' never hear wan bird call. 
 
 But come wit' me on de winter 
 
 On place w'ere de beeg tree grow 
 De smoke of de log house chimley 
 
 Will tole you de way to go 
 An' if you 're not too unlucky 
 
 De w'isky iack dere you '11 see 
 Flyin' aroun' de shaintee 
 
 An' dat was de bird for me. 
 
 You '11 mebbe not lak hees singin' 
 
 Dough it 's better dan not'ing too, 
 For affer he do hees bes', den 
 
 Wat more can poor Johnnie do? 
 It 's easy job sing on summer 
 
 De sam' as de rossignol 
 But out of door on de winter 
 
 Jus' try it youse'f dat 's all. 
 253
 
 THE CANADIAN MAGPIE 
 
 See heem dere, now he 's comin' 
 
 Hoppin' an' hoppin' aroun' 
 Wen we start on de morning early 
 
 For work till de sun go down 
 T'row heem hees piece of breakfas' 
 
 An' hear heem say "merci bien," 
 For he 's fond of de pork, ba golly! 
 
 Sam' as de Canayen. 
 
 De noise of de axe don't scare heem 
 He stay wit' us all de day, 
 An' w'en he was feelin' lak' it 
 
 Ride home wit' de horse an' sleigh 
 Den affer we reach de shaintee 
 
 He 's waitin' to see us back 
 Jompin' upon de log dere 
 
 Good leetle w'isky jack! 
 
 So here 's to de bird of winter 
 
 Wearin' de coonskin coat, 
 Wenever it 's bird election 
 
 You bet he can get ma vote 
 Dat 's way I be feel about it, 
 
 Voyageurs let her go today! 
 W'isky jack, get ready, we drink you 
 
 Tou jours a vot' bonne sante! 
 Bapt&ne ! 
 254
 
 THE RED CANOE 
 
 The Red Canoe 
 
 r\E win' is sleepin' in de pine, but O! de 
 
 night is black! 
 An' all day long de loon bird cry on Lac Waya- 
 
 gamack 
 No light is shinin' by de shore for helpin' steer 
 
 heem t'roo 
 
 Wen out upon de night, Ubalde he tak' de 
 red canoe. 
 
 I hear de paddle dip, dip, dip! wance more I 
 
 hear de loon 
 I feel de breeze was show de way for storm 
 
 dat 's comin' soon, 
 An' den de sky fly open wit' de lightning 
 
 splittin' t'roo 
 An' 'way beyon' de point I see de leetle red 
 
 canoe. 
 
 It 's dark again, but lissen how across Waya- 
 gamack 
 
 De tender 's roarin' loud, an' now de mount- 
 ains answer back 
 
 I wonder wit' de noise lak dat, he hear me, le 
 bon Dieu 
 
 Wen on ma knee I ax Heem save de leetle red 
 canoe ! 
 
 255
 
 TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO 
 
 Is dat a voice, so far away, it die upon ma eat? 
 Or only win' was foolin' me, an' w'isperin' 
 
 "Belzemire"? 
 Yaas, yaas, Ubalde, your Belzemire she 's 
 
 prayin' hard for you 
 An' den again de lightning come, but w'ere 's 
 
 de red canoe? 
 
 Dey say I 'm mad, dem foolish folk, cos w'en 
 
 de night is black 
 An' w'en de wave lak snow-dreef come on Lac 
 
 Wayagamack 
 I tak' de place w'ere long ago we use to sit, us 
 
 two, 
 An' wait until de lightning bring de leetle red 
 
 canoe. 
 
 Two Hundred Years Ago 
 
 'TPWO honder year ago, de worl' is purty slow 
 Even folk upon dis contree 's not so 
 smart, 
 Den who is travel roun' an' look out de 
 
 pleasan' groun' 
 
 For geev' de Yankee peop' a leetle start? 
 256
 
 TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO 
 
 I '11 tole you who dey were ! de beeg rough 
 
 voyageurs, 
 
 Wit deir cousin w'at you call coureurs de bois, 
 Dat 's fightin' all de tarn, an' never care a dam, 
 An' ev'ry wan dem feller he 's come from 
 
 Canadaw 
 
 Bapte'me ! 
 He 's comin' all de way from Canadaw. 
 
 But He watch dem, le bon Dieu, for He 's got 
 
 some work to do, 
 
 An He won't trus' ev'ry body, no siree ! 
 Only full blood Canadien, lak Marquette an' 
 
 Hennepin, 
 
 An' w'at you t'ink of Louis Verandrye? 
 On church of Bonsecours! makin' ready for 
 
 de tour, 
 
 See dem down upon de knee, all prayin' dere 
 Wit' de paddle on de han' ev'ry good Canad- 
 ien man, 
 An' affer dey be finish, hooraw for anyw'ere. 
 
 Yass, sir! 
 Dey 're ready now for goin' anyw'ere. 
 
 De nort' win' know dem well, an' de prairie 
 
 grass can tell 
 
 How offen it is trample by de ole tarn botte 
 sauvage 
 17 257
 
 TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO 
 
 An' grey wolf on hees den kip very quiet, w'en 
 He hear dem boy a' singin' upon de long 
 
 portage. 
 An' de night would fin' dem lie wit' deir faces 
 
 on de sky, 
 An' de breeze would come an' w'isper on deir 
 
 ear 
 'Bout de wife an' sweetheart dere on Sorel an' 
 
 Trois Rivieres 
 Dey may never leev' to see anoder year, 
 
 Dat 's true, 
 Dey may never leev' to kiss anoder year. 
 
 An' you '11 know de place dey go, from de 
 
 canyon down below, 
 
 Or de mountain wit' hees nose above de cloud, 
 De lake among de hill, w'ere de grizzly drink 
 
 hees fill 
 
 Or de rapid on de reever roarin' loud ; 
 Ax de wil' deer if de flash of de ole Tree 
 
 Reever sash 
 
 He don't see it on de woods of Illinois 
 An' de musk ox as he go, w'ere de camp fire 
 
 melt de snow, 
 De smell he still remember of tabac Canadien 
 
 Ha! Ha! 
 
 It's hard forgettin' smell of tabac Canadien! 
 258
 
 THE VOYAGEUR 
 
 So, ma frien', de Yankee man, he mus' try an 1 
 
 understan' 
 Wen he holler for dat flag de Star an' 
 
 Stripe, 
 If he 's leetle win' still lef, an' no danger hurt 
 
 hese'f, 
 
 Den he better geev' anoder cheer, ba cripe! 
 For de flag of la belle France, dat show de way 
 
 across 
 
 From Louisbourg to Florida an' back; 
 So raise it ev'ryw'ere, lak' de ole tam voy- 
 
 ageurs, 
 Wen you hear of de la Salle an' Cadillac 
 
 Hooraw ! 
 For de flag of de la Salle an' Cadillac. 
 
 The Voyageur 
 
 r\ERE 's somet'ing stirrin' ma blood to- 
 night, 
 
 On de night of de young new year, 
 Wile de camp is warm an' de fire is bright, 
 
 An' de bottle is close at han' 
 Out on de reever de nort' win' blow, 
 Down on de valley is pile de snow, 
 But w'at do we care so long we know 
 We 're safe on de log cabane? 
 259
 
 THE VOYAGEUR 
 
 Drink to de healt' of your wife an' girl, 
 
 Anoder wan for your frien', 
 Den geev' me a chance, for on all de worl* 
 
 I 've not many frien' to spare 
 I 'm born, w'ere de mountain scrape de sky, 
 An' bone of ma fader an' moder lie, 
 So I fill de glass an' I raise it high 
 
 An' drink to de Voyageur. 
 
 For dis is de night of de jour de 1 'an, * 
 
 Wen de man of de Grand Nor' Wes' 
 T'ink of hees home on de St. Laurent, 
 
 An' frien' he may never see 
 Gone he is now, an' de beeg canoe 
 No more you '11 see wit' de red-shirt crew, 
 But long as he leev' he was alway true, 
 So we '11 drink to hees memory. 
 
 Ax' heem de nort' win' w'at he see 
 
 Of de Voyageur long ago, 
 An' he '11 say to you w 'at he say to me, 
 
 So lissen hees story well 
 "I see de track of hees botte sau-vagef 
 On many a hill an' long portage 
 Far, far away from hees own vill-age 
 
 An' soun' of de parish bell 
 
 * New Year's Day. t Indian boot. 
 
 260
 
 THE VOYAGEUR 
 
 "I never can play on de Hudson Bay 
 
 Or mountain dat lie between 
 But I meet heem singin' hees lonely way 
 
 De nappies' man I know 
 I cool hees face as he 's sleepin' dere 
 Under de star of de Red Riviere, 
 
 An' off on de home of de great w'ite bear, 
 
 I 'm seein' hees dog traineau.* 
 
 " De woman an' chil'ren 's runnin' out 
 On de wigwam of de Cree 
 
 De leetle papoose dey laugh an' shout 
 W 'en de soun' of hees voice dey hear 
 
 De oldes' warrior of de Sioux 
 
 Kill hese'f dancin' de w'ole night t'roo, 
 
 An de Blackfoot girl remember too 
 De ole tarn Voyageur. 
 
 "De blaze of hees camp on de snow I see, 
 
 An' I lissen hees 'En Roulant' 
 On de Ian' w'ere de reindeer travel free, 
 
 Ringin' out strong an' clear 
 Offen de grey wolf sit before 
 De light is come from hees open door, 
 An' caribou foller along de shore 
 De song of de Voyageur. 
 
 * Dog-sleigh. 
 
 261
 
 " If he only kip goin', de red ceinture,* 
 
 I 'd see it upon de Pole 
 Some mornin' I 'm startin' upon de tour 
 
 For blowin 1 de worl' aroun' 
 But w'erever he sail an' w'erever he ride, 
 De trail is long an' de trail is wide, 
 An' city an' town on ev 'ry side 
 
 Can tell of hees campin' groun'." 
 
 So dat 's de reason I drink to-night 
 
 To de man of de Grand Nor' Wes', 
 For hees heart was young, an' hees heart was 
 
 light 
 
 So long as he 's leevin' dere 
 I 'm proud of de sam' blood in my vein 
 I 'm a son of de Nort' Win ' wance again 
 So we '11 fill her up till de bottle 's drain 
 An' drink to de Voyageur. 
 
 Bruno the Hunter 
 
 "\7~OU never hear tell, Marie, ma femme, 
 
 Of Bruno de hunter man, 
 Wit' hees wild dogs chasin' de moose an' deer, 
 Every day on de long, long year, 
 Off on de hillside far an' near, 
 An' down on de beeg savane? 
 
 * Canadian sash. 
 
 262
 
 BRUNO THE HUNTER 
 
 Not'ing can leev' on de woods, Marie, 
 
 W 'en Bruno is on de track, 
 An' young caribou, an' leetle red doe 
 Wit' baby to come on de spring, dey know 
 De pity dey get w'en hees bugle blow 
 
 An' de black' dogs answer back. 
 
 No bird on de branch can finish hees song, 
 
 De squirrel no longer play 
 De leaf on de maple don't need to wait 
 Till fros' of October is at de gate 
 'Fore de blood drops come: an' de fox sleeps late 
 
 W'en Bruno is pass dat way. 
 
 So de devil ketch heem of course at las' 
 
 Dat 's w 'at de ole folk say, 
 
 An' spik to heem, "Bruno, w'at for you kill 
 De moose an' caribou of de hill 
 An' fill de woods wit' deir blood until 
 
 You could run a mill night an' day? 
 
 " Mebbe you lak to be moose youse'f, 
 
 An' see how de hunter go, 
 So I '11 change your dogs into loup garou,* 
 An' wance on de year dey '11 be chasin' you 
 An' res' of de tarn w'en de sport is t'roo, 
 
 You '11 pass wit' me down below. " 
 
 * Vv'cre wolf. 
 
 263
 
 BRUNO THE HUNTER 
 
 An' dis is de night of de year, Marie, 
 
 Bruno de hunter wake: 
 Soon as de great beeg tender cloud 
 Up on de mountain 's roarin' loud 
 He '11 come from hees grave w'ere de pine tree 
 crowd 
 
 De shore of de leetle lake. 
 
 You see de lightning zig, zig, Marie, 
 
 Spittin' lak' loup cervier,* 
 Ketch on de trap? Oh! it won't be long 
 Till mebbe you lissen anoder song, 
 For de sky is dark an' de win' is strong, 
 
 An' de chase is n't far away. 
 
 Wy shiver so moche, Marie, ma femme, 
 
 For de log is burnin' bright? 
 Ah! dere she 's goin', "Hulloo! Hulloo!" 
 
 An' oh! how de tender is roarin' too! 
 But it can't drown de cry of de loup garou 
 
 On Bruno de hunter's night. 
 
 Over de mountain an' t'roo de swamp, 
 
 Don't matter how far or near, 
 Every place hees moccasin know 
 Bruno de hunter he 's got to go 
 'Fore de grave on de leetle lake below 
 
 Close up for anoder year. 
 
 * Lynx. 
 
 264
 
 PRIDE 
 
 But dey say de ole feller watch all night, 
 
 So you need n't be scare, Marie, 
 For he '11 never stir from de rocky cave 
 Were door only open beneat' de wave, 
 Till Bruno come back to hees lonely grave- 
 
 An' de devil he turn de key. 
 
 Dat 's way for punish de hunter man 
 
 W 'en murder is on hees min' 
 So he better stop w 'ile de work is new, 
 Or mebbe de devil will ketch heem too, 
 An' chase heem aroun' wit' de loup garou 
 Gallopin' close behin'. 
 
 Pride 
 
 TV/TA fader he spik to me long ago, 
 
 "Alphonse, it is better go leetle slow 
 Don't put on de style if you can't afford, 
 But satisfy be wit' your bed an' board. 
 De bear wit' hees head too high alway, 
 
 Know not' ing at all till de trap go smash. 
 An' mooshrat dat 's swimmin' so proud to-day 
 
 Very off en to-morrow is on de hash."* 
 
 * Old proverb of Ste. Flore. 
 265
 
 PRIDE 
 
 Edouard de Seven of Angleterre, 
 
 An' few oder place beside, 
 He 's got de horse an' de carriage dere 
 
 W'enever he want to ride. 
 Wit' sojer in front to clear de way, 
 Sojer behin' all dress so gay, 
 Ev 'rywan makin' de grand salaam, 
 An' plaintee o' ban' playin' all de tarn. 
 
 Edouard de Seven of Angleterre, 
 
 All he has got to do, 
 Wen he 's crossin' de sea, don't matter w'ere, 
 
 Is call for de ship an' crew. 
 Den hois' de anchor from down below, 
 Vive le Roi! an' away she go, 
 An' flag overhead, w'en dey see dat sight 
 Were is de nation don't be polite? 
 
 An' dere 's de boss of United State, 
 
 An' w'at dey call Philippine 
 De Yankee t'ink he was somet'ing great, 
 
 An' beeg as de king or queen 
 So dey geev' heem a house near touch de sky, 
 An' paint it so w'ite it was blin' de eye 
 An' long as he 's dere beginnin' to en', 
 Don't cos' heem not'ing for treat hees frien'. 
 266
 
 PRIDE 
 
 So dere 's two feller, Edouard de King 
 
 An' Teddy Roos-vel' also, 
 No wonder dey 're proud, for dey got few t'ing 
 
 Was helpin' dem mak' de show 
 But oh! ma Gosh! w'en you talk of pride 
 An' w 'at dey call style, an' puttin' on side, 
 W 'ere is de man can go before 
 De pig-sticker champion of Ste. Flore? 
 
 Use to be nice man too, dey say, 
 
 Jeremie Bonami, 
 Talk wit' hees frien' in a frien'ly way 
 
 Sam' as you' se 'f an' me 
 Of course it 's purty beeg job he got, 
 An' no wan expec' heem talk a lot, 
 But still would n't hurt very moche, I 'm sure, 
 If wance in a w'ile he 'd say, "Bonjour. " 
 
 Yi ! Yi ! to see heem come down de hill 
 
 Some mornin' upon de fall, 
 W'en de pig is fat an' ready to kill, 
 
 He don't know hees frien' at all 
 Look at hees face an' it seem to say, 
 "Important duty I got to-day, 
 Killin' de pig on de contree side, 
 Is n't dat some reason for leetle pride?" 
 267
 
 PRIDE 
 
 Lissen de small boy how dey shout 
 Wen Jeremie 's marchin' t'roo 
 De market place wit' hees cane feex out 
 
 Wit' ribbon red, w'ite, an' blue 
 An' den he jomp on de butcher 's block, 
 An' after de crowd is stop deir talk, 
 An' leetle boy holler no more "Hooray, 
 Dis is de word Jeremie he say 
 
 "I 'm de only man on de w'ole Ste. Flore 
 
 Can kill heem de pig jus' right, 
 Please t'ink of dat, an' furdermore 
 
 Don't matter it 's day or night, 
 Can do it less tarn, five dollar I bet, 
 Dan any pig-sticker you can get 
 From de w'ole of de worl' to w'ere I leev r - 
 Will somebody help to roll up ma sleeve? 
 
 ' : Some feller challenge jus' here an' dere, 
 
 An' more on deir own contree, 
 But me I challenge dem ev'ry w'ere 
 
 All over de worl' sapree ! 
 To geev' dem a chance, for dere might be some 
 
 Beeg feller, for all I know, 
 But if dey 're ready, wall! let dem come, 
 
 An' me I 'm geevin' dem plaintee show. " 
 268
 
 PRIDE 
 
 Challenge lak dat twenty year or more 
 
 He 's makin' it ev'ry fall, 
 But never a pig-sticker come Ste. Flore 
 
 'Cos Jeremie scare dem all 
 No wonder it 's makin' heem feel so proud, 
 
 Even Emperor Germanic 
 Can't put on de style or talk more loud 
 
 Dan Jeremie Bonami. 
 
 But Jeremie's day can't las' alway, 
 
 An' so he commence to go 
 W 'en he jomp on de block again an' say 
 
 To de crowd stannin' dere below, 
 "Lissen, ma frien', to de word I spik, 
 For I 'm tire of de challenge until I 'm sick, 
 Can't say, but mebbe I '11 talk no more 
 For glory an' honor of ole Ste. Flore. 
 
 " I got some trouble aroun' ma place 
 
 Wit' ma nice leetle girl Rosine, 
 An' I see w'en I 'm lookin' on all de face, 
 
 You 're knowin' jus' w 'at I mean 
 Very easy to talk, but w 'en dey come 
 For seein' her twenty young man ba Gum! 
 I tole you ma' frien', it was purty tough, 
 'Sides wan chance in twenty is not enough 
 269
 
 PRIDE 
 
 ' Now lissen to me, all you young man 
 
 Is wantin' ma girl Rosine 
 I offer a chance an' you '11 understan' 
 
 It 's bes' you was never seen; 
 T 'ree minute start I '11 geev' no more 
 An' if any young feller upon Ste. Flore 
 Can beat me stickin' de pig nex' fall, 
 Let heem marry ma girl Rosine dat 's all. ' 
 
 All right an' very nex' week he start, 
 
 De smartes' boy of de lot 
 An' he 's lovin' Rosine wit' all hees heart, 
 
 De young Adelard Marcotte 
 Don't say very moche about w'ere he go, 
 But I t'ink mese'f it was Buffalo 
 An' plaintee more place on de State dat 's beeg 
 W 'ere he don't do not'ing but stick de pig. 
 
 So of course he 's pickin' de fancy trick 
 
 An' ev'ryt'ing else dey got 
 Work over tarn but he got homesick 
 
 De young Adelard Marcotte 
 Jus' about tarn' w'en de fall come along 
 So den he wissle hees leetle song 
 An' buy tiquette for de ole Ste. Flore, 
 An' back on de village he come some more. 
 270
 
 PRIDE 
 
 Ho! Ho! ma Jeremie Bonami, 
 
 Get ready you' se 'f to-day, 
 For you got beeg job you was never see 
 
 Will tak' all your breat' away 
 ."Come on! come on!" dey be shoutin' loud, 
 De Bishop hese'f could n't draw de crowd 
 Of folk on de parish for mile aroun', 
 Till dey could n't fin' place upon de groun". 
 
 Hi! Hi! Jeremie, you may sweat an' swear, 
 
 Your tam is arrive at las' 
 Dere 's no use pullin' out all your hair 
 
 Or drinkin' de w'isky glass 
 Spit on your han' or hitch de pants 
 You '11 never have anyt'ing lak a chance, 
 Hooraw! Hooraw! let her go wance more, 
 An' Adelard 's champion of all Ste. Flore! 
 
 " Away on de pump ! " de crowd is yell, 
 
 "No use for heem goin' die." 
 Dey nearly drown Jeremie on de well 
 
 But he 's comin' roun' bimeby 
 Rosine dat 's laughin' away all day 
 Is startin' to cry, an' den she say 
 "O fader dear, won't you geev' me kiss 
 For I never s'pose it would come to dis? 
 271
 
 DIEUDONNE (GOD-GIVEN) 
 
 "Don't blame de boy over dere, 't was me 
 
 Dat sen' away Adelard 
 He 's sorry for beat you, I 'm sure, ba oui, 
 
 An' dat 's w'at I 'm crying for 
 'Cos it 's all ma fault you was lick to-day, 
 Don't care w'at any wan else can say 
 But remember too, an' you '11 not forget 
 De championship 's still on de familee yet. ' 
 An' de ole man smile. 
 
 Dieudonne (God-Given) 
 
 TF I sole ma ole blind trotter for fifty dollar 
 
 cash 
 
 Or win de beeges' prize on lotterie, 
 If some good frien' die an' lef me fines' house 
 
 on St. Eustache, 
 You t'ink I feel more happy dan I be? 
 
 No, sir ! An' I can tole you, if you never know 
 
 before, 
 
 Wy de kettle on de stove mak' such a fuss, 
 W 'y de robin stop hees singin' an' come peekin* 
 
 t'roo de door 
 
 For learn about de nice t'ing 's come to us 
 272
 
 THE DEVIL 
 
 An' w'en he see de baby lyin' dere upon de bed 
 Lak leetle Son of Mary on de ole tarn long 
 
 ago 
 Wit' de sunshine an' de shadder makin' ring 
 
 aroun' hees head, 
 No wonder M 'sieu Robin wissle low. 
 
 An* we can't help feelin' glad too, so we call 
 
 heem Dieudonne; 
 An' he never cry, dat baby, w'en he 's 
 
 chrissen by de pries' 
 All de sam' I bet you dollar he '11 waken up 
 
 some day, 
 An' be as bad as leetle boy Bateese. 
 
 The Devil 
 
 A LONG de road from Bord a Plouffe 
 
 To Kaz-a-baz-u-a 
 Were poplar trees lak sojers stan', 
 An' all de Ian' is pleasan' Ian', 
 In off de road dere leev's a man 
 Call Louis Des jar dins. 
 
 An' Louis, w'en he firse begin 
 
 To work hees leetle place, 
 He work so hard de neighbors say, 
 "Unless he tak's de easy way 
 Dat feller 's sure to die some day, 
 
 We see it on hees face. " 
 is 273
 
 THE DEVIL 
 
 'T was lak a swamp, de farm he got, 
 
 De water ev'ryw'ere 
 Might drain her off as tight as a drum. 
 An' back dat water is boun' to come 
 In less 'n a day or two ba Gum ! 
 
 'T would mak' de angel swear. 
 
 So Louis t'ink of de bimeby, 
 
 If he leev' so long as dat, 
 Wen he 's ole an' blin' an' mebbe deaf r 
 All alone on de house hese'f, 
 No frien', no money, no not 'ing lef, 
 
 An' poor can't kip a cat. 
 
 So wan of de night on winter tarn, 
 
 Wen Louis is on hees bed, 
 He say out loud lak a crazy man, 
 "I 'm sick of tryin' to clear dis Ian', 
 Work any harder I can't stan', 
 
 Or it will kill me dead. 
 
 "Now if de devil would show hese'f 
 
 An' say to me, 'Tiens! Louis! 
 Hard tarn an' work she 's at an' en', 
 You '11 leev' lak a Grand Seigneur ma frien' ,, 
 If only you '11 be ready w 'en 
 
 I want you to come wit 'me. ' 
 274
 
 THE DEVIL 
 
 "I 'd say, 'Yass, yass-^- 'maudit! w'at 's dat?'* 
 
 An' he see de devil dere 
 Brimstone, ev'ryt'ing bad dat smell, 
 You know right away he 's come from well, 
 De place I never was care to tell 
 
 An' wearin' hees long black hair, 
 
 Lak election man, de kin' I mean 
 
 You see aroun' church door, 
 Spreadin' hese'f on great beeg speech 
 'Bout poor man 's goin' some day be reech, 
 But dat 's w'ere it alway come de heetch, 
 
 For poor man 's alway poor. 
 
 De only diff 'rence me I see 
 
 'T ween devil an' long-hair man 
 It 's hard to say, but I know it 's true, 
 Wen devil promise a t'ing to do 
 Dere 's no mistak', he kip it too 
 
 I hope you understan'. 
 
 So de devil spik, "You 're not content, 
 
 An' want to be reech, Louis 
 All right, you '11 have plaintee, never fear 
 No wan can beat you far an' near, 
 An' I '11 leave you alone for t'orty year, 
 
 An' den you will come wit' me. 
 275
 
 THE DEVIL 
 
 "Be careful now it 's beeg contrac', 
 
 So mebbe it 's bes' go slow; 
 For me de promise I mak' to you 
 Is good as de bank Riviere du Loup 
 For you w'enever de tarn is due, 
 Ba tonder ! you got to go. " 
 
 Louis try hard to tak' hees tam 
 
 But w'en he see de fall 
 Comin' along in a week or so, 
 All aroun' heem de rain an' snow 
 An' pork on de bar'l runnin' low, 
 
 He don't feel good at all. 
 
 An' w'en he t'ink of de swampy farm 
 
 An' gettin' up winter night, 
 Watchin' de stove if de win' get higher 
 For fear de chimley go on fire, 
 It 's makin' poor Louis feel so tire 
 He tell de devil, "All right. " 
 
 "Correct," dat feller say right away, 
 
 " I '11 only say, Au revoir, " 
 An' out of de winder he 's goin' pouf ! 
 Beeg nose, long hair, short tail, an' hoof 
 Off on de road to Bord a Plouffe 
 
 Crossin' de reever dere. 
 276
 
 
 THE DEVIL 
 
 W 'en Louis get up nex' day, ma frien', 
 
 Dere 's lot of devil sign 
 Bar'l o' pork an' keg o' rye, 
 Bag o' potato ten foot high, 
 Pile o' wood nearly touch de sky, 
 
 Was some o' de t'ing he fin'. 
 
 Suit o' clothes would have cos' a lot 
 
 An' ev'ryt'ing I dunno, 
 Trotter horse w'en he want to ride 
 Eatin' away on de barn outside, 
 Stan' all day if he 's never tied, 
 
 An' watch an' chain also. 
 
 An' swamp dat 's bodder heem many tam, 
 
 Were is dat swamp to-day? 
 Don't care if you 're huntin' up an* down 
 You won't fin' not'ing but medder groun', 
 An' affer de summer come aroun' 
 
 Were can you see such hay? 
 
 Wall ! de year go by, an' Louis leev* 
 
 Widout no work to do, 
 Rise w 'en he lak on winter day, 
 Fin' all de snow is clear away, 
 No fuss, no not 'ing, dere 's de sleigh 
 
 An' trotter waitin' too. 
 277
 
 THE DEVIL 
 
 W 'en t'orty year is nearly t 'roo 
 An' devil 's not come back 
 
 'Course Louis say, "Wall! he forget 
 
 Or t'ink de tarn 's not finish yet; 
 
 I '11 tak' ma chance an' never fret, " 
 But dat 's w'ere he mak' mistak'. 
 
 For on a dark an' stormy night 
 
 W 'en Louis is sittin' dere, 
 Affer he fassen up de door 
 De devil come as he come before, 
 Lookin' de sam' only leetle more, 
 
 For takin' heem you know w'ere. 
 
 "Asseyez vous, sit down, ma frien', 
 
 Bad night be on de road ; 
 You come long way an' should be tire 
 Jus' wait an' mebbe I feex de fire 
 Tak' off your clothes for mak' dem drier, 
 
 Dey mus' be heavy load. " 
 
 Dat 's how poor Louis Desjardins 
 
 Talk to de devil, sir 
 Den say, "Try leetle w'isky blanc, 
 Dey 're makin' it back on St. Laurent 
 It 's good for night dat 's cole an' raw, " 
 
 But devil never stir, 
 278
 
 THE DEVIL 
 
 Until he smell de smell dat come 
 
 Wen Louis mak' it hot 
 Wit' sugar, spice, an' ev'ryt'ing, 
 Enough to mak' a man's head sing 
 For winter, summer, fall an' spring 
 
 It 's very bes' t'ing we got. 
 
 An' so de devil can't refuse 
 
 To try de w'isky blanc, 
 An' say, "I 'm tryin, many drink, 
 An' dis is de fines' I don't t'ink, 
 De firse, ba tonder ! mak' me wink 
 
 Hooraw, pour Canadaw!" 
 
 "Merci non, non I tak' no more, " 
 
 De devil say at las', 
 "For tarn is up wit' you, Louis, 
 So come along, ma frien', wit' me, 
 So many star I 'm sure I see, 
 
 De storm she mus' be pas'. " 
 
 "No hurry wait a minute, please," 
 
 Say Louis Desjardins, 
 "We '11 have a smoke before we're t'roo, 
 'T will never hurt mese'f or you 
 To try a pipe, or mebbe two, 
 
 Of tabac Canayen. "* 
 
 * Canadian tobacco. 
 
 279
 
 THE DEVIL 
 
 "Wan pipe is all I want for me 
 
 We '11 finish our smoke downstair," 
 De devil say, an' it was enough, 
 For w'en he tak' de very firse puff 
 He holler out, "Maudit! w'at stuff! 
 Fresh air! fresh air!! fresh air!!!" 
 
 An' oh! he was never sick before 
 Till he smoke tabac Bruneau 
 Can't walk or fly, but he want fresh air, 
 So Louis put heem on rockin' chair 
 An' t 'row heem off on de road out dere 
 An' tole heem go below. 
 
 An' he shut de door an' fill de place 
 
 Wit' tabac Canayen, 
 An' never come out, an' dat 's a fac' 
 But smoke away till hees face is black 
 So dat 's w'y de devil don't come back 
 
 For Louis Desjardins. 
 
 An' dere he 's yet, an' dere he '11 stay 
 
 So weech of de two 11 win 
 'Can't say for dat it 's kin' of a doubt, 
 For Louis, de pipe never leave hees mout', 
 An' night or day can't ketch heem out, 
 
 An' devil's too scare go in. 
 280
 
 
 THE FAMILY LARAMIE 
 
 The Family Laramie 
 
 1LISSH! look at ba-bee on de leetle blue 
 chair, 
 
 Wat you t'ink he 's tryin' to do? 
 Wit' pole on de han' lak de lumberman, 
 
 A-shovin' along canoe. 
 Dere 's purty strong current behin' de stove, 
 
 W 'ere it 's passin' de chimley-stone, 
 But he 11 come roun' yet, if he don't upset,. 
 
 So long he was lef ' alone. 
 
 Dat 's way ev'ry boy on de house begin 
 
 No sooner he 's twelve mont' ole; 
 He '11 play canoe up an' down de Soo 
 
 An' paddle an' push de pole, 
 Den haul de log all about de place, 
 
 Till dey 're fillin' up mos' de room, 
 An' say it 's all right, for de storm las' night 
 
 Was carry away de boom. 
 
 Mebbe you see heem, de young loon bird, 
 
 Wit' half of de shell hangin' on, 
 Tak' hees firse slide to de water side, 
 
 An' off on de lake he 's gone. 
 Out of de cradle dey 're goin' sam' way 
 
 On reever an' lake an' sea ; 
 For born to de trade, dat 's how dey 're made, 
 
 De familee Laramie. 
 
 281
 
 YANKEE FAMILIES 
 
 An' de reever she 's lyin' so handy dere 
 
 On foot of de hill below, 
 Dancin' along an' singin' de song 
 
 As away to de sea she go, 
 No wonder I never can lak dat song, 
 
 For soon it is comin' w 'en 
 Dey 11 lissen de call, leetle Pierre an' Paul, 
 
 An' w'ere will de moder be den? 
 
 She 11 sit by de shore w'en de evenin's come, 
 
 An' spik to de reever too : 
 ""O reever, you know how dey love you so, 
 
 Since ever dey 're seein' you, 
 .For sake of dat love bring de leetle boy home 
 
 Once more to de moder 's knee. " 
 An' mebbe de prayer I be makin' dere 
 
 Will help bring dem back to me. 
 
 Yankee Families 
 
 "V7~OU s'pose God love de Yankee 
 
 An' de Yankee woman too, 
 Lak he love de folk at home on Canadaw? 
 
 I dunno 'cos if he do, 
 
 Wat 's de reason he don't geev' dem familee 
 
 Is dere anybody hangin' roun' can answer me 
 
 Wile I wait an' smoke dis pipe of good tabac? 
 
 282
 
 YANKEE FAMILIES 
 
 An' now I '11 tole you somet'ing 
 
 Mebbe help you bimeby, 
 An' dere 's no mistak' it 's w 'at dey call sure 
 
 sign 
 
 W 'en you miss de baby's cry 
 As you 're goin' mak' some visit on de State 
 Dat 's enough you needn't ax if de train's 
 
 on tarn or late, 
 You can bet you 're on de Yankee side de line. 
 
 Unless dere 's oder folk dere, 
 
 Mebbe wan or two or t'ree, 
 Canayen is comin' workin' on de State 
 
 Den you see petite Marie 
 Leetle Joe an' Angelique, Hormisdas an' 
 
 Dieudonne", 
 
 But you can't tole half de nam' it don't mat- 
 ter any way 
 'Sides de fader he don't t'ink it 's not'ing great. 
 
 De moder, you can see her 
 
 An' she got de basket dere 
 Wit' de fine t'ing for de chil 'ren nice an' slick 
 
 For dey can't get fat on air 
 Cucumber, milk, an' onion, some leetle cake also 
 De ole gran'moder 's makin' on de farm few 
 
 - days ago 
 
 Wat 's use buy dollar dinner mak' dem sick? 
 283
 
 YANKEE FAMILIES 
 
 But look de Yankee woman 
 Wit' de book upon her han', 
 Readin', readin', an' her husban', he can't get 
 
 Any chance at all, poor man, 
 For sit down, de way de seat 's all pile up wit' 
 
 magazine 
 
 De t'ing lak dat on Canadaw is never, never seen. 
 Wouldn't she be better wit' some chil'ren? 
 Wall! you bet! 
 
 No wonder dey was bringin' 
 
 For helpin' dem along 
 So many kin' of feller I dunno 
 
 Chinee washee from Hong Kong 
 An' w'at dey call Da-go, was work for dollar a 
 
 day, 
 But w'en dey mak' some money, off dey 're 
 
 goin', right away 
 Dat 's de reason dey was get de nam' Da-go. 
 
 Of course so long dey 're comin' 
 
 From ev 'ry place dey can, 
 Not knowin' moche, dere 's not'ing fuss about 
 
 Only boss de stranger man 
 But now dem gang of feller dat 's come across 
 
 de sea 
 He 's gettin' leetle smarter, an' he got de 
 
 familee 
 
 So Uncle Sam mus' purty soon look out. 
 284
 
 YANKEE FAMILIES 
 
 I wonder he don't know it 
 
 It 's funny he don't see 
 Dere 's somet'ing else dan money day an' 
 
 night 
 
 Non he '11 work hese'f era-zee, 
 Den travel roun' de worl', an' use de money 
 
 too 
 De King hese'f can't spen' lak de Yankee man 
 
 is do 
 But w'ere 's de leetle chil'ren? dat 's not right! 
 
 W 'at 's use of all de money 
 
 If dere ain 't some boy an' girl 
 Mak' it pleasan' for de Yankee an' hees wife 
 
 Wen dey travel on de worl' ? 
 For me an' Eugenie dere 's not'ing we lak bes' 
 Dan gader up de chil'ren an' get dem nicely 
 
 dress 
 W'y it's more dan half de pleasure of our life. 
 
 I love de Yankee woman 
 
 An' de Yankee man also, 
 An' mebbe dey '11 be wiser bimeby 
 
 But I lak dem all to know 
 If dey want to kip deir own, let dem raise de 
 
 familee 
 
 An' den dey '11 boss de contree from de moun- 
 tain to de sea, 
 
 For dey 're smart enough to do it if dey try. 
 285
 
 THE LAST PORTAGE 
 
 The Last Portage 
 
 T 'M sleepin' las' night w'en I dream a dream 
 
 An' a wonderful wan it seem 
 For I 'm off on de road I was never see, 
 Too long an' hard for a man lak me, 
 So ole he can only wait de call 
 Is sooner or later come to all. 
 
 De night is dark an de portage dere 
 Got plaintee o' log lyin' ev'ryw'ere, 
 Black bush aroun' on de right an' lef, 
 A step from de road an' you los' you* se'f 
 De moon an' de star above is gone, 
 Yet somet'ing tell me I mus' go on. 
 
 An' off in front of me as I go, 
 Light as a dreef of de fallin' snow 
 Who is dat leetle boy dancin' dere 
 Can see hees w'ite dress an' curly hair, 
 An' almos' touch heem, so near to me 
 In an' out dere among de tree? 
 
 An' den I 'm hearin' a voice is say, 
 "Come along, fader, don't min' de way, 
 De boss on de camp he sen' for you, 
 So your leetle boy 's going to guide you t'roo 
 It 's easy for me, for de road I know, 
 Cos I travel it many long year ago." 
 286
 
 THE LAST PORTAGE 
 
 An' oh! mon Dieu! w'en he turn hees head 
 I 'm seein' de face of ma boy is dead 
 Dead wit' de young blood in hees vein 
 An' dere he 's comin' wance more again 
 Wit' de curly hair, an' dark-blue eye, 
 So lak de blue of de summer sky 
 
 An' now no more for de road I care, 
 An' slippery log lyin' ev'ryw'ere 
 De swamp on de valley, de mountain too, 
 But climb it jus' as I use to do 
 Don't stop on de road, for I need no res' 
 So long as I see de leetle w'ite dress. 
 
 An' I f oiler it on, an' wance in a w'ile 
 He turn again wit' de baby smile, 
 An' say, "Dear fader, I 'm here you see 
 We 're bote togeder, jus' you an' me 
 Very dark to you, but to me it 's light, 
 De road we travel so far to-night. 
 
 "De boss on de camp w'ere I alway stay 
 Since ever de tarn I was go away, 
 He welcome de poores' man dat call, 
 But love de leetle wan bes* of all, 
 So dat 's de reason I spik for you 
 An' come to-night for to bring you t'roo. " 
 287
 
 GETTING ON 
 
 Lak de young Jesu w 'en he 's here below 
 De face of ma leetle son look jus' so 
 Den off beyon', on de bush I see 
 De w 'ite dress f adin' among de tree 
 Was it a dream I dream las' night 
 Is goin' away on de morning light? 
 
 Getting On 
 
 T KNOW I 'm not too young, an' ma back is 
 
 not as straight 
 
 As it use to be some feefty year ago; 
 Don't care to go aroun' if de rain is fallin' 
 
 down 
 
 'Less de rheumateez is ketch me on de toe 
 But dat is ma beez-nesse, an' no matter how I 
 
 feel- 
 Oder folk dey might look out deir own affair 
 'Stead o' w'isperin', "Wall! ba Gosh! lissen 
 
 poor Maxime Meloche, 
 
 How dat leetle drop o' rain is mak' heem 
 swear! 
 
 De ole man's gettin' on!" 
 
 Smart folk lak dat, of course, mebbe never hear 
 
 de news 
 
 Of de tam he 's comin' sick Guillaume La- 
 roche, 
 
 288
 
 GETTING ON 
 
 Who 's tak' heem home to die w 'en de rap- 
 
 ide 's runnin' high, 
 An' carry heem on hees shoulder t'roo de 
 
 bush? 
 Oh! no, it was n't me, only wan of dem young 
 
 man 
 Hardly got de baby moustache on de 
 
 mout', 
 Dat 's de reason w 'y I say to mese'f mos' ev'ry 
 
 day, 
 
 "Purty hard dere 's not'ing else dan talk 
 about 
 
 ' De ole man 's gettin' on. ' " 
 
 W 'at 's mak' me feelin' mad is becos dey don 't 
 
 spik out, 
 Non ! dey '11 sneak aroun' for watch me as 
 
 I go, 
 
 An' if I mebbe spill leetle water on de hill, 
 Wen I 'm comin' from de well down dere 
 
 below, 
 No use for tellin' me I know too moche mese'f, 
 
 Dat 's de tarn I 'm very sure dey alway say, 
 "See heem now, how slow he go don't I 
 
 off en tole you so? 
 
 We 're sorry, but Maxime is have hees 
 day, 
 
 De ole man 's gettin' on." 
 to 289
 
 GETTING ON 
 
 It 's foolish t'ing to do, for dere 's alway hang 
 
 aroun' 
 
 Some crazy feller almos' ev'ry day 
 So I might a' stay at home 'stead o' tryin' feex 
 
 de boom, 
 
 Dough I 'm sure de win' is blow de oder way ; 
 For I never hear dem shout w'en dey let de 
 
 water out, 
 
 An' de log dey come a-bangin' down de chute, 
 But leetle Joe Leblanc ketch me on de pant, 
 
 hooraw ! 
 
 Den spile de job by w'isperin', "I 'm afraid 
 I spik de trut', 
 
 De ole man's gettin' on." 
 
 Only yesterday de pig get loose an' run away, 
 An' de nex' t'ing he was goin' on de corn 
 So I run an' fetch de stick, an' affer heem so 
 
 quick 
 
 Jus' to mak' heem feelin' sorry he was born; 
 An' dat pig he laugh at me, an' he fill hees 
 
 belly full 
 'Fore he 's makin' up his min' for come 
 
 along 
 I 'm sure I see heem wink should n't wonder 
 
 if he t'ink, 
 
 "Very easy see dere 's somet'ing goin' 
 wrong 
 
 De ole man 's gettin' on. " 
 290
 
 GETTING ON 
 
 If only I can get some doctor feex me up, 
 
 Mak' me feel a leetle looser on de knee 
 On de shoulder, ev'ryw'ere ba tonder! I 
 
 don't care, 
 
 I '11 spen' a couple o' dollar, mebbe t'ree 
 Jus' to larn dem feller dere how to skip an' 
 
 how to jomp, 
 
 On de way I beat deir fader long ago 
 Yass siree! an' purty soon dey '11 sing anoder 
 
 tune, 
 An' wonder w'at de devil 's dere to show 
 
 De ole man 's gettin' on. 
 
 Oh! dat maudit rheumateez! now she 's ketchin* 
 
 me again 
 
 On de back becos I 'm leetle bit excite, 
 An' put ma finger down, widout stoopin' on 
 
 de groun' 
 
 But I '11 do dat trick to-morrow, not to- 
 night 
 All de sam' I off en t'ink ev'ry dog is got hees 
 
 day, 
 
 Dat 's de lesson I was learnin' on de school; 
 So I can't help feelin' blue w-'en I wonder if 
 
 it 's true 
 
 W'at dey 're sayin dough o' course dey 're 
 only fool 
 
 De ole man 's gettin' on. 
 291
 
 PIONEERS 
 
 Pioneers 
 
 TF dey 're walkin' on de road side, an' dey 're 
 
 bote in love togeder, 
 An' de star of spring is shinin' wit' de young 
 
 moon in between, 
 It was purty easy guessin' dey 're not talkin' 
 
 of de wedder, 
 
 Wen de boy is comin' twenty, an' de girl is 
 jus' eighteen. 
 
 It 's a sign de winter 's over, an' it 's pleasan' 
 
 hear de talkin' 
 Of de bull-frog on de swamp dere wit' all 
 
 hees familee 
 But it 's lonesome doin' not 'ing, an' dere 's 
 
 not moche fun in walkin', 
 So we fin' some fence dat 's handy for mese'f 
 an' Rosalie. 
 
 An' I dunno how it happen, w'en her head 
 
 come on ma shoulder, 
 An' her black eye on de moonlight, lak de 
 
 star shine dat 's de way. 
 (Mebbe it 's becos de springtam) so I ketch her 
 
 han' an' tole her 
 
 Of how moche I 'd lak to tak' her on some 
 contree far away. 
 292
 
 PIONEERS 
 
 Den she say, I '11 mak' an offer, if you 're sure 
 
 you want to tak' me 
 On de place I dunno w'ere me you mus' 
 
 pay beeg price, Jo-seph. 
 You can carry me off to-morrow, so I 'm never 
 
 comin' back me 
 
 But you '11 lose upon de bargain, for de price 
 I want 's you' se'f. " 
 
 I was purty good for tradin', mebbe tak' it 
 
 from ma fader, 
 For de ole man 's alway tryin' show me 
 
 somet'ing dat was new 
 But de trade I mak' dat evenin' wit' poor 
 
 Rosalie, I rader 
 
 Not say not 'ing moche about it, dough it 's 
 bes' I never do. 
 
 So we settle on de reever wit' de bush for miles, 
 
 behin' us 
 Here we buil' de firse log shaintee, only me 
 
 an' Rosalie 
 Dat 's de woman help her husban' ! an' w 'en 
 
 winter come an' fin' us 
 We was ready waitin' for heem jus' as happy 
 as could be. 
 
 293
 
 PIONEERS 
 
 Bar'l o' pork an' good potato, wan or two oder 
 
 t'ing too 
 Leetle w'isky, plaintee flour, an' wood-pile 
 
 stannin' near 
 Don't min' de hardes' winter, an' fat enough 
 
 in spring too 
 
 De folk dat 's comin' handy w'en you want 
 de contree clear! 
 
 Rosalie, you see her outside on de porch dere 
 
 wit' her knittin' 
 Yass, of course I know she 's changin' since 
 
 de day she marry me 
 An' she 11 never sit no more dere on de fence 
 
 lak leetle kitten 
 
 She 'd be safer on a stone wall, but she 's 
 still ma Rosalie. 
 
 All alone: de neares' shaintee, over ten mile 
 
 down de reever 
 An' might be only yesterday, I 'member it 
 
 so well 
 W'en I 'm comin' home wan morning affer 
 
 trappin' on de beaver, 
 
 An' ma wife is sayin', "Hurry, go an' fetch 
 Ma-dame Labelle. " 
 294
 
 PIONEERS 
 
 If you 're stan'in' on de bank dere, you mus* 
 
 t 'ink I 'm crazy feller 
 By de way I work de paddle, an' de way 
 
 ' canoe she go 
 But Ma-dame know all about it, an' I never 
 
 need to tell her, 
 
 An' we jus' get back in tarn* dere for wel- 
 come leetle Joe. 
 
 Dat 's de way dem woman 's doin' for help 
 
 along each oder, 
 For Pierre Labelle he 's comin' now an' den 
 
 for Rosalie 
 Of course dere 's many tarn too, dey got to 
 
 be godmoder 
 
 An' w'en dey want godfader, w'y dere 's 
 only Pierre an' me. 
 
 Twenty year so hard we 're workin', twenty 
 
 year reapin', sowin', 
 Choppin' tree an' makin' portage, an' de 
 
 chil'ren help us too 
 
 But it's never feelin' lonesome w'ile de f ami- 
 lee is growin', 
 
 An' de cradle seldom empty, an' we got so 
 moche to do. 
 
 295
 
 PIONEERS 
 
 Den w'en all de work is finish, w'at dey 're 
 
 callin' de surveyor 
 He 's comin' here an' fin' us, an' of course 
 
 so well he might 
 For it 's easy job to foller, w'en de road is 
 
 lyin' dere, 
 
 So blin' man he can walk it wit' hees eyes 
 closed, darkes' night. 
 
 An' de nex' t'ing dere 's a township, an' de 
 
 township bring de taxes, 
 An' it 's leetle hard on us too, dat 's way it 
 
 seem to me 
 An' de Gover 'ment, I s 'pose dey '11 never t 'ink 
 
 at all to ax us 
 
 For de small account dey 're owin' mese'f 
 an' Rosalie. 
 
 So we '11 see de beeg procession very soon 
 
 come up de reever 
 Some will settle on de roadside, some will 
 
 stay upon de shore 
 But de ole place we be clearin', I don't t'ink 
 
 we '11 never leave her, 
 
 Dough we 're all surroun' by stranger an' 
 we 're in de worl' wance more. 
 296
 
 NATURAL PHILOSOPHY 
 
 Natural Philosophy 
 
 VTERY off en I be t'inkin' of de queer folk 
 
 goin' roun', 
 And way dey kip a-talkin' of de hard tarn 
 
 get along 
 May have plaintee money too, an' de healt' 
 
 be good an' soun' 
 But you '11 fin' dere 's alway somet'ing goin' 
 
 wrong 
 'Course dere may be many reason w'y some 
 
 feller ought to fret 
 But me, I 'm alway singin' de only song I 
 
 know 
 'T is n't long enough for music, an' so short 
 
 you can't forget, 
 But it drive away de lonesome, an' dis is 
 
 how she go, 
 
 "Jus' tak' your chance, an' try your 
 luck." 
 
 Funny feller's w'at dey call me "so diff'ren' 
 
 from de res', " 
 But ev'rybody got hees fault, as far as I can 
 
 see 
 
 An' all de t'ing I 'm doin', I do it for de bes', 
 Dough w 'en I 'm bettin' on a race, dat 's 
 offen loss for me 
 297
 
 NATURAL PHILOSOPHY 
 
 "Oho!" I say, "Alphonse ma frien', to-day 
 
 is not your day, 
 For more you got your money up, de less 
 
 your trotter go 
 But never min' an' don't lie down, " dat 's 
 
 w'at I alway say, 
 An' sing de sam' ole song some more, mebbe 
 
 a leetle slow 
 "Jus' tak' your chance, an' try your luck." 
 
 S'pose ma uncle die an' lef me honder dollar, 
 
 mebbe two 
 An' I don't tak' hees advice me for put 
 
 heem on de bank 
 'Stead o' dat, some lot'rie ticket, to see w'at 
 
 I can do, 
 An' purty soon I 'm findin' out dey 're w'at 
 
 you call de blank 
 Wall! de bank she might bus' up dere 
 
 somet'ing might go wrong 
 Dem feller, w'en dey get it, mebbe skip before 
 
 de night 
 Can't tell den w'ere 's your money? So I 
 
 sing ma leetle song 
 An I don't boder wit' de w'isky, an' again I 
 
 feel all right, 
 
 "Jus' tak' your chance, an' try your luck." 
 298
 
 NATURAL PHILOSOPHY 
 
 If you 're goin' to mak' de marry, kip a look 
 
 out on de eye, 
 But no matter how you 're careful, it was 
 
 risky anyhow 
 An' if you 're too unlucky, jus' remember 
 
 how you try 
 For gettin' dat poor woman, dough she may 
 
 have got you now 
 All de sam', it sometam happen dat your wife 
 
 will pass away 
 No use cryin', you can't help it dere 's 
 
 your duty to you' se'f 
 You don't need to ax de neighbor, dey will tell 
 
 you ev'ry day 
 
 Start again lak hones' feller, for dere 's plain- 
 tee woman lef 
 "Jus' tak' your chance, an' try your luck. " 
 
 Poor man lak me, I 'm not 'ing: only w'en 
 
 election 's dere, 
 An' ev'rybody 's waitin' to ketch you by de 
 
 t 'roat 
 De money I be makin' den, wall! dat was mon 
 
 affaire 
 An* affer all w 'at diff 'rence how de poor man 
 
 mak' de vote? 
 
 So I do ma very bes' me wit* de wife an' 
 familee 
 
 299
 
 CHAMPLAIN 
 
 On de church door Sunday morning, you 
 
 can see us all parade 
 Len' a frien' a half a dollar, an' never go on 
 
 spree 
 So w'en I 'm comin' die me no use to be 
 
 afraid 
 "Jus' tak' your chance, an' try your luck." 
 
 Champlain 
 
 ' 'ERE '11 we go?" says Pierre de Monts,* 
 
 To hese'f as he walk de forwar' deck, 
 "For I got ma share of Trois Rivieres 
 
 An' I never can lak Kebeck 
 Too moche Nort' Pole maudit ! it 's cole 
 
 Oh ! la ! la ! de win' blow too. 
 An' I'm sure w'at I say, M'sieu Pontgrave 
 He know very well it 's true. 
 
 " But here 's de boat, an' we 're all afloat 
 
 A honder an' fifty ton 
 An' look at de lot of man we got, 
 
 No better berieat' de sun 
 Provision, too, for all de crew 
 
 An' pries' for to say de prayer, 
 So mes chers amis, dey can easy see 
 
 De vessel mus' pass somew'ere. 
 
 * De-mo. 
 
 300
 
 CHAM PLAIN 
 
 " If I only know de way to go 
 
 For findin' some new an' pleasan' Ian', " 
 But jus' as he spik, he turn roun' quick, 
 
 An' dere on de front, sir, stan' de Man. 
 "You was callin' me, I believe," says he, 
 
 As brave as a lion "Tiens! 
 Wen we reach de sea, an' de ship is free, 
 
 You can talk wit' Samuel de Champlain. "* 
 
 Wan look on hees eye an' he know for w r y 
 
 Young Samuel spik no more, 
 So he shake hees han', an' say, "Young man, 
 
 Too bad you don't come before; 
 But now you are here, we '11 geev' t 'ree cheer, 
 
 An' away w 'erever you want to go 
 For I lak your look an' swear on de Book 
 
 You '11 fin' de good frien' on Pierre de Monts.' 
 
 So de sail 's set tight, an' de win' is right, 
 
 For it 's blowin' dem to de wes' 
 An' dey say deir prayer, for God knows w 'ere 
 
 De anchor will come to res' 
 Adieu to de shore dey may see no more 
 
 Good-bye to de song an' dance 
 De girl dey love, an' de star above 
 
 Kipin' watch on de Ian' of France. 
 
 * Shaum-pla. 
 
 301
 
 CHAMPLAIN 
 
 Den it's "Come below, M'sieu Pierre de 
 Monts," 
 
 Champlain he say to de capitaine 
 "An' I 11 tell to you, w'at I t'ink is true 
 
 Dough purty hard, too, for understan' 
 I dream a dream an' it alway seem 
 
 Dat God hese'f he was say to me 
 4 Rise up, young man, de quick you can 
 
 An' sail your ship on de western sea. 
 
 ' 'De way may be long, an' de win' be strong, 
 
 An' wave sweep over de leetle boat 
 But never you min', an' you 're sure to fin', 
 
 If you trus' in me, you will kip afloat. ' 
 An' I tak' dat ship, an' I mak' de trip 
 
 All on de dream I was tellin' you 
 An' oh ! if you see w 'at appear to me, 
 
 I wonder w'at you was a-t'inkin' too? 
 
 "I come on de Ian' w'ere dere 's no w'ite man- 
 
 I come on de shore w'ere de grass is green- 
 An' de air is clear as de new-born year, 
 
 An' of all I was see, dis Ian 's de Queen 
 So I 'm satisfy if we only try 
 
 An' fin' if dere 's anyt'ing on ma dream, 
 An' I '11 show de way, " Champlain is say 
 
 Den Pierre de Monts he is answer heem, 
 302
 
 CHAMPLAIN 
 
 "All right, young man, do de bes' you can 
 So long you don 't bring me near Kebeck 
 
 Or Trois Rivieres, not moche I care, 
 An' I hope your dream 's comin' out correc'." 
 
 So de brave Champlain he was say, "Ire's 
 bien," 
 
 An' soon he was boss of de ship an' crew 
 
 An' pile on de sail, wedder calm or gale 
 Oh ! dat is de feller know w 'at to do. 
 
 Don't I see heem dere wit' hees long black hair 
 
 On de win' blowin 1 out behin' 
 Watchin' de ship as she rise an' dip, 
 
 An' always follerin' out de Sign? 
 An' day affer day I can hear heem say 
 
 To de sailor man lonesome for home an* 
 
 frien', 
 "Cheer up, mes amis, for soon you will see 
 
 De Ian' risin' up on de oder en'. " 
 
 Wall ! de tarn go by, an' still dey cry 
 
 "Oh! bring us back for de familee's sake." 
 Even Pierre de Monts fin' it leetle slow 
 
 An' t 'ink mebbe somebody mak' mistake 
 But he don't geev' in for he 's boun' to win' 
 
 De young Champlain an' hees heart grow 
 
 strong 
 Wen de voice he hear say, "Never fear; 
 
 You won't have to suffer for very long. " 
 303
 
 CHAMPLAIN 
 
 Alone on de bow I can see heem now 
 
 Wan mornin' in May w'en de sun was rise 
 Smellin' de air lak a bloodhoun', dere 
 
 An' de light of de Heaven shine on hees 
 
 eyes. 
 A minute or more he is wait before 
 
 He talc' off de hat an' raise hees han' 
 Den down on de knee, sayin', "Dieu merci!" 
 
 He cross hese'f dere, an' I understan' 
 
 "Ho! Ho! De Monts ! are you down below, 
 
 Sleepin' so soun' on de bed somew'ere? 
 If you 're feelin well, come up an' tell 
 
 Wat kin' of a cloud you be seein' dere. " 
 Den every wan shout w'en de voice ring out 
 
 Of de young Champlain on dat summer day, 
 "Lan'! it is Ian'!" cry de sailor man 
 
 You can hear dem holler ten mile away. 
 
 Port Rossignol is de place dey call 
 
 (I 'm sorry dat nam' it was disappear) ; 
 An' mos' ev'ry tree dem Frenchman see 
 
 Got nice leetle bird singin', "Welcome here." 
 An' happy dey were, dem voyageurs 
 
 An' de laugh come out on de sailors' face 
 No wonder, too, w'en de shore dey view, 
 
 For w'ere can you see it de better place? 
 
 304
 
 PRO PATRIA 
 
 If you want to fin' w'at is lef behin' 
 Of de story I try very hard tell you, 
 
 Don't bodder me now or raise de row, 
 But study de book de sam' I do. 
 
 Pro P atria 
 
 S leevin' across on de State Vermont 
 Were mountain so high you see 
 Got plaintee to do, so all I want 
 
 Is jus' to be quiet me 
 No bodder, no fuss, only work aroun* 
 
 On job I don't lak refuse 
 But affer de familee settle down 
 It 's come w'at dey call war-news. 
 
 De Spanish da-go he was gettin' mad, 
 
 An' he 's dangerous 1'Espagnol ! 
 An' ev'ry wan say it was lookin' bad, 
 
 Not safe on de State at all 
 So Yankee he 's tryin' for sell hees farm, 
 
 An' town 's very moche excite, 
 Feexin' de gun an' de fire-alarm, 
 
 An' ban'" playin' ev'ry night. 
 
 An' soon dere 's comin', all dress to kill, 
 
 Beeg feller from far away, 
 Shoutin' lak devil on top de hill, 
 
 An' dis is de t'ing he say
 
 PRO PATRIA 
 
 "Strike for your home an' your own contree! 
 
 Strike for your native Ian' ! 
 
 Kip workin' away wit' de spade an' hoe, 
 
 Den jump w'en you hear de bugle blow, 
 
 For danger 's aroun', above, below, 
 
 But de bugle will tell if it 's tam to go. " 
 
 An' he tak' de flag wit' de star an' stripe, 
 
 An' holler out "Look at me! 
 If any wan touch dat flag, ba cripe ! 
 
 He 's dead about wan two t'ree. " 
 Den he pull it aroun' heem few more tam, 
 
 An' sit on de rockin' chair, 
 Till somebody cheer for hees Uncle Sam, 
 
 Dough I don't see de ole man dere. 
 
 I got a long story for tell dat night 
 
 On poor leetle Rose Elmire, 
 An' she say she 's sorry about de fight 
 
 We 're doin' so well down here 
 But it 's not our fault an' we can't help dat, 
 
 De law she is made for all, 
 So our duty is wait for de rat-tat-tat 
 
 Of drum an' de bugle call. 
 
 An' it 's busy week for Elmire an' me, 
 
 I 'm sure you 'd pity us too 
 Workin' so hard lak you never see, 
 
 For dere 's plaintee o' job to do 
 306
 
 PRO PATRIA 
 
 Den half o* de night packin' up de stuff 
 We got on de small cabane 
 
 An' buyin' a horse, dough he cos' enough, 
 For Yankee 's a hard trade man. 
 
 An' how can I sleep if ma wife yell out 
 
 "Ge'de'on, dere she goes!" 
 An' bang an' tear all de house about, 
 
 Wen Johnnie is blow hees nose? 
 Poor leetle chil'ren dey suffer too, 
 
 Lyin' upon de floor, 
 Wit' de bed made up, for dey never go 
 
 On de worl' lak dat before. 
 
 We got to be ready, of course, an' wait 
 
 De chil'ren, de wife, an' me, 
 For show de Yankee upon de State, 
 
 Ba Golly! how smart we be. 
 You know de game dey call checker-boar'? 
 
 Wall ! me an' ma wife Elmire, 
 We 're playin' dat game on de outside door 
 
 Wit' leetle wan gader near; 
 
 Jus' as de sun on de sky go down 
 An' mountain dey seem so fine, 
 
 Ev'ryt'ing quiet, don't hear a soun', 
 So I 'm lookin' across de line. 
 307
 
 PRO PATRIA 
 
 An' I t'ink of de tarn I be leevin' dere 
 
 On county of Yamachiche, 
 De swamp on de bush w'ere I ketch de hare 
 
 De reever I use to feesh. 
 
 An' ma wife Elmire w'en she see de tear, 
 
 She cry leetle bit herse'f 
 Put her han' on ma neck, an' say, "Ma dear, 
 
 I 'm sorry we never lef ' ; 
 
 But money 's good t'ing, an' dere 's nice folk 
 too, 
 
 Leevin' upon Vermont 
 Oot plaintee o' work for me an' you 
 
 Is dere anyt'ing more we want? 
 
 4 'Dere 's w'at dey 're callin' de war beez-nesse 
 
 It 's troublesome t'ing, of course, 
 But no gettin' off mus' strike wit' de res', 
 
 No matter it might be worse 
 We 're savin' along never lose a day, 
 
 An' ready w'en bugle blow " 
 But dat was de very las' word she say, 
 
 For dere it commence to go, 
 
 Blowin' away on de mountain dere, 
 
 W'ere snow very seldom melts, 
 Down by de reever an' ev'ryw'ere, 
 
 We could n't hear not'ing else 
 308
 
 PRO PATRIA 
 
 Nobody stop to fin' out de place, 
 
 Too busy for dat to-day 
 But we never forget de law in de case 
 
 Wen feller he spik dis way 
 
 "Strike for your home an' your own contree! 
 
 Strike for your native Ian' ! 
 
 Kip workin' away wit' de spade an' hoe, 
 
 Den jump w'en you hear de bugle blow, 
 
 For danger 's aroun', above, below, 
 
 But de bugle will tell if it 's tam to go. " 
 
 An' de chil'ren yell, an' de checker-boar* 
 
 Don't do her no good at all 
 An' nobody never jump before 
 
 Lak de crowd w'en dey hear de call, 
 Dat was de familee, bet your life 
 
 I 'm prouder, ba Gosh ! to-day 
 Mese'f, de leetle wan, an' de wife, 
 
 Dan anyt'ing I can say 
 
 'Cos nobody strike on de way we do 
 
 For home an' deir own contree 
 Wit' fedder bed, stove, de cradle too, 
 
 An' ev'ryt'ing else we see 
 Pilin' de wagon up ten foot high 
 
 Goin' along de road 
 An' de Yankee say as we 're passin' by 
 
 Dey never see such a load 
 309
 
 GETTING STOUT 
 
 So dat 's how we 're comin' to Yamachiche 
 
 An' dat 's w'y we 're stayin' here 
 Jus' to be quiet an' hunt an' feesh, 
 
 Not'ing at all to fear 
 .An' if ever you lissen de Yankee folk 
 
 Brag an' kick up de fuss 
 An' say we 're lak cattle upon de yoke, 
 
 An' away dey can trot from us 
 
 Jus' tell dem de news of Gede*on Plouffe 
 
 How he jump wit' de familee 
 An' strike w'en de bugle is raise de roof 
 
 For home an' hees own contree. 
 
 Getting Stout 
 
 EIGHTEEN, an' face lak de w'at 's de 
 good? 
 
 Dere 's no use tryin' explain 
 De way she 's lookin', dat girl Marie 
 
 But affer it pass, de rain, 
 An' sun come out of de cloud behin', 
 
 An' laugh on de sky wance more 
 Wall ! dat is de way her eye it shine 
 
 W'en she see me upon de door. 
 310
 
 GETTING STOUT 
 
 An' dere she 's workin' de ole-tam sash, 
 
 De fines' wan, too, for sure. 
 "Who is it for, ma belle Marie 
 
 You 're makin' de nice ceinture? 
 Come out an' sit on de shore below, 
 
 For watchin' dem draw de net, 
 Ketchin' de feesh, " an' she answer, "No,. 
 
 De job is n't finish yet; 
 
 "Stan* up, Narcisse, an' we '11 see de fit. 
 
 Dat sash it was mak' for you, 
 For de ole wan 's gettin' on, you know, 
 
 An' o' course it '11 never do 
 If de boy I marry can't go an spen' 
 
 Wat dey 're callin' de weddin' tour 
 Wit' me, for visitin' all hees frien', 
 
 An' not have a nice ceinture." 
 
 An' den she measure dat sash on me, 
 
 An' I fin' it so long an' wide 
 I pass it aroun' her, an' dere we stan', 
 
 De two of us bote inside 
 "Could n't be better, ma chere Marie, 
 
 Dat sash it is fit so well 
 It jus' suit you, an' it jus' suit me, 
 
 An' bote togeder, ma belle." 
 3"
 
 GETTING STOUT 
 
 So I wear it off on de weddin' tour 
 
 An' long affer dat also, 
 An' never a minute I 'm carin' how 
 
 De win' of de winter blow 
 Don't matter de cole an' frosty night 
 
 Don't matter de stormy day, 
 So long as I 'm feex up close an' tight 
 
 Wit' de ole ceinture fleche. 
 
 An' w'ere 's de woman can beat her now, 
 
 Ma own leetle girl Marie? 
 For we 're marry to-day jus' feefty year 
 
 An' never a change I see 
 But wan t'ing strange, dough I try ma bes' 
 
 For measure dat girl wance more, 
 She say "Go off wit' de foolishness, 
 
 Or pass on de outside door. 
 
 "You know well enough dat sash get tight 
 
 Out on de snow an' wet 
 Drivin' along on ev'ry place, 
 
 Den how can it fit me yet? 
 Shows w'at a fool you be, Narcisse, 
 
 W'enever you go to town; 
 Better look out, or I call de pries' 
 
 For makin' you stan' aroun'." 
 312
 
 DOCTOR HILAIRE 
 
 But me, I 'm sure it was never change, 
 
 Dat sash on de feefty year 
 An' I can't understan' to-day at all, 
 
 Wat 's makin' it seem so queer 
 De sash is de sam', an' woman too, 
 
 Can't fool me, I know too well 
 But woman, of course dey off en do 
 
 Some funny t'ing you can't tell ! 
 
 Doctor Hilaire 
 
 A STRANGER might say if he see heem 
 
 drink till he almos' fall, 
 "Doctor lak dat for sick folk, he's never no 
 
 use at all, " 
 But wait till you hear de story dey 're tellin* 
 
 about heem yet, 
 
 An' see if you don't hear somet'ing, mebbe 
 you won't forget. 
 
 Twenty odd year she 's marry. Belzemire La- 
 
 freniere, 
 An' oh! but she 's feelin' lonesome 'cos never 
 
 a sign is dere 
 Purty long tarn for waitin', but poor leetle 
 
 Belzemire 
 She 's bad enough now for pay up all of dem 
 
 twenty year.
 
 DOCTOR HILAIRE 
 
 Call heem de oldes' doctor, call heem de 
 
 younges' wan, 
 Bring dem along, no matter if ev'ry dollar 's 
 
 gone 
 Tree of dem can't do not'ing, workin' for two 
 
 days dere, 
 She was a very sick woman, Belzemire La- 
 
 freniere. 
 
 Pierre he was cryin', cryin' out on de barn 
 
 behin', 
 Neighbors tryin' to kip heem goin' right off 
 
 hees min', 
 Wen somebody say, "Las' winter, ma wife she 
 
 is nearly go, 
 An' who do you t'ink is save her? ev'ry wan 
 
 surely know. 
 
 "Drink? does he drink de w'isky? don't care 
 
 I 'm hees only frien', 
 Dere 's only wan answer comin', Wall! leetle 
 
 bit now an' den 
 Doctor Hilaire he tak' it, but if it was me or 
 
 you 
 Leevin' on Beausejour dere, w'at are you goin' 
 
 to do? 
 
 3H
 
 DOCTOR HILAIRE 
 
 "An' so you may t'ank de w'isky, 'cos 
 
 w'ere '11 he be to-day 
 If he never is drinkin' not'ing? Many a mile 
 
 away 
 Off on de great beeg city, makin' de money 
 
 quick, 
 W'ere ev'ry wan want de doctor w'enever he 's 
 
 leetle sick. 
 
 "Remember de way to get heem is tell heem 
 
 it's bad, bad case, 
 Or Doctor Hilaire you '11 never see heem upon 
 
 dis place! 
 Tell heem dere 's two life waitin', an' sure to 
 
 be comin' die 
 Unless he is hurry quicker dan ever de bird can 
 
 fly. 
 
 "T'orty mile crick is runnin' over de road, I 'm 
 
 sure, 
 But if you can fin' de crossin' you '11 ketch 
 
 heem at Beausejour. 
 Sober or drunk, no matter, bring heem along 
 
 you mus', 
 For Doctor Hilaire 's de only man of de lot for 
 
 us." 
 
 315
 
 DOCTOR HILAIRE 
 
 Out wit' de quickes' horse den, Ste. Genevieve 
 
 has got, 
 An' if ever you show your paces, now is de tarn 
 
 to trot 
 Johnnie Dufresne is drivin', w'at! never hear 
 
 tell of heem, 
 Off on de Yankee circus, an' han'le a ten-horse 
 
 team? 
 
 Dat was de lonesome journey over de moun- 
 tain high, 
 
 Down w'ere de w'ite fog risin' show w'ere de 
 swamp is lie, 
 
 An' drive as he can de faster, an' furder away 
 he get 
 
 Johnnie can hear dat woman closer an' closer 
 yet. 
 
 Offen he tell about it, not'ing he never do 
 Geev' heem de funny feelin' Johnnie is goin* 
 
 t'roo, 
 But he is sure of wan t'ing, if Belzemire 's 
 
 comin' die, 
 Poor woman, she 'd never foller affer heem wit' 
 
 her cry. 
 
 316
 
 DOCTOR HILAIRE 
 
 Dat is de t'ing is cheer heem, knowin' she 
 
 is n't gone, 
 So he answer de voice a-callin', tellin' her to 
 
 hoi' on, 
 Till he bring her de help she 's needin' if only 
 
 she wait a w'ile 
 Dat is de way he 's doin' all of dem t'orty 
 
 mile 
 
 Lucky he was to-night, too, for place on de 
 
 crick he got, 
 Search on de light of day-tarn, he could n't 
 
 fin' better spot, 
 But jus' as it happen', mebbe acre or two 
 
 below, 
 Is place w'ere de ole mail-driver 's drownin' 
 
 a year ago. 
 
 Were is de road? he got it, an' very soon 
 
 B cause jour 
 Off on de hillside lyin', dere she is, small an' 
 
 poor, 
 Lookin' so lak starvation might a' been t'roo 
 
 de war, 
 An' dere, on de bar-room sleepin', de man he is 
 
 lookin' for.
 
 DOCTOR HILAIRE 
 
 Drunk? he is worse dan ever poor leetle man ! 
 
 too bad! 
 Lissen to not'ing neider, but Johnnie is feel so 
 
 glad 
 Ketchin' heem dere so easy, 'fore he can 
 
 answer, "No" 
 He 's tyin' heem on de buggy, an' off on de 
 
 road he go 
 
 Half o' de journey 's over, half o' de night is 
 
 pass, 
 Wen Doctor Hilaire stop swearin', an start to 
 
 get quiet at las' 
 Don't do any good ax Johnnie lettin' heem 
 
 loose again, 
 For if any man tak' de chances, would n't be 
 
 Johnnie Dufresne. 
 
 Hooraw for de black horse trotter! hooraw for 
 
 de feller drive! 
 An' wan leetle cheer for Belzemire dat 's kipin' 
 
 herse'f alive 
 Till Johnnie is bring de doctor, an' carry heem 
 
 on de door 
 An' loosen heem out as sober as never he was 
 
 before. 
 
 318
 
 DOCTOR HILAIRE 
 
 Quiet inside de house now, quiet de outside 
 
 too, 
 Look at each oder smokin', dat 's about all we 
 
 do; 
 An' jus' as we feel, ba tender! no use, we mus' 
 
 talk or die, 
 Dere on de house we 're hearin' poor leetle 
 
 baby's cry. 
 
 Dat 's all, but enough for makin' tear comin' 
 
 down de face, 
 An' Pierre, if you only see heem jumpin' aroun' 
 
 de place 
 You 'd t'ink of a colt in spring-tarn den off 
 
 on de barn we go 
 Were somebody got de bottle for drinkin' de 
 
 healt', you know. 
 
 Takin' it too moche w'isky, is purty hard job 
 
 to cure, 
 But only for poor ole w'isky, village of Beau- 
 
 sejour 
 Can never have such a doctor, an' dat 's w'y it 
 
 ain't no tarn 
 Talk very moche agin it, but fill her up jus' de 
 
 sam'. 
 
 319
 
 BARBOTTE (BULL-POUT) 
 
 An' drink to de baby's moder, here 's to de 
 
 baby too, 
 An' Doctor Hilaire, anoder, beeger dan all, for 
 
 you. 
 For sober or drunk, no matter, so long as he 
 
 understan' 
 It 's very bad case is waitin', Doctor Hilaire 's 
 
 de man. 
 
 Barbotte (Bull-pout} 
 
 r\ERE 's some lak dory, an' some lak bass, 
 
 An' plaintee dey mus' have trout 
 An* w'ite feesh too, dere 's quite a few 
 
 Not satisfy do widout 
 Very fon' of sucker some folk is, too, 
 
 But for me, you can go an' cut 
 De w'ole of dem t'roo w'at you call menu, 
 So long as I get barbotte 
 
 Ho ! Ho ! for me it 's de nice barbotte. 
 
 No fuss to ketch heem no row at all, 
 
 De sam' as you have wit' bass 
 Never can tell if you hook heem well, 
 
 An' mebbe he 's gone at las' ! 
 An' trout, wall! any wan 's ketchin' trout 
 
 Dey got to be purty smart 
 But leetle bull-pout, don't have to look out, 
 
 For dem feller got no heart 
 
 Good t'ing, dey ain't got no heart. 
 320
 
 BARBOTTE (BULL-POUT) 
 
 Dat 's wan of de reason I lak heem too 
 
 For all you have got to do 
 Is takin' your pole on de feeshin' hole 
 
 An' anchor de ole canoe 
 Den spit on de worm for luck, an' pass 
 
 De leetle hook up de gut, 
 An' drop it down slow, jus' a minute or so, 
 
 An' pull up de nice barbotte, 
 
 Ha ! Ha ! de fine leetle fat barbotte. 
 
 Pleasan' to lissen upon de spring 
 
 De leetle bird sing hees song, 
 Wile you watch de line an' look out for sign 
 
 Of mooshrat swimmin' along ; 
 Den tak' it easy an' smoke de pipe, 
 
 An' w'ere is de man has got 
 More fun dan you on de ole canoe 
 
 Wen dey 're bitin', de nice barbotte 
 
 De nice leetle fat barbotte, 
 
 No runnin' aroun' on de crick for heem, 
 
 No jompin' upon de air, 
 Makin' you sweat till your shirt is wet 
 
 An' sorry you 're comin' dere 
 Foolin' away wit' de rod an' line 
 
 Mebbe de affernoon 
 For sure as he bite he 's dere all right, 
 
 An' you 're ketchin' heem very soon 
 
 Yass sir! you 're gettin' heem purty soon. 
 
 21 321
 
 THE ROSSIGNOL 
 
 Den tak' heem off home wit' a dozen more 
 
 An' skin heem so quick you can. 
 Fry heem wit' lard, an' you '11 fin' it hard 
 
 To say if dere 's on de pan 
 Such feesh as dat on de worl' before 
 
 Since Adam, you know, is shut 
 Out of de gate w'en he 's comin' home late, 
 
 As de nice leetle fat barbotte 
 
 Dat 's true, de nice leetle sweet barbotta 
 
 The Rossignol 
 
 Air " Sur la Montagne " 
 
 JUS' as de sun is tryin' 
 Climb on de summer sky 
 Two leetle bird come flyin' 
 
 Over de mountain high 
 Over de mountain, over de mountain, 
 Hear dem call, 
 Hear dem call poor leetle rossignol! 
 
 Out of de nes' togeder, 
 
 Broder an' sister too, 
 Out on de summer wedder 
 
 W'en de w'ole worl' is new 
 Over de mountain, over de mountain, 
 Hear dem call, 
 
 Hear dem call poor leetle rossignol ! 
 322
 
 No leetle heart was lighter, 
 
 No leetle bird so gay, 
 Never de sun look brighter 
 
 Dan he is look to-day 
 Over de mountain, over de mountain, 
 Hear dem call, 
 Hear dem call poor leetle rossignol ! 
 
 Wy are dey leave de nes' dere 
 Were dey was still belong? 
 
 Better to stay an' res' dere 
 Until de wing is strong. 
 
 Over de mountain, over de mountain, 
 
 Hear dem call, 
 
 Hear dem call poor leetle rossignol. 
 
 Wat is dat watchin' dere now 
 
 Up on de maple tall, 
 Better look out, tak' care now, 
 
 Poor leetle rossignol, 
 Over de mountain, over de mountain, 
 Hear dem call, 
 Hear dem call poor leetle rossignol ! 
 
 Here dey are comin' near heem 
 
 Singin' deir way along 
 How can dey know to fear heem 
 
 Poor leetle bird so young 
 323
 
 THE ROSSIGNOL 
 
 Over de mountain, over de mountain, 
 
 Hear dem call, 
 
 Hear dem call poor leetle rossignol ! 
 
 Moder won't hear you cryin', 
 
 Wat is de use to call, 
 Wen he is comin' flyin' 
 
 Quick as de star is fall? 
 Over de mountain, over de mountain, 
 Hear dem call, 
 Hear dem call poor leetle rossignol ! 
 
 Up w'ere de nes' is lyin', 
 
 High on de cedar bough, 
 Were de young hawk was cryin' 
 
 Soon will be quiet now. 
 Over de mountain, over de mountain, 
 Hear heem call, 
 Hear heem call poor leetle rossignol! 
 
 If he had only kissed her, 
 
 Poor leetle rossignol ! 
 But he was los' hees sister, 
 
 An' it 's alone he call 
 Over de mountain, over de mountain, 
 Hear heem call, 
 
 Hear heem call poor leetle rossignol ! 
 3 2 4
 
 MEB-BE 
 
 Only a day of gladness, 
 
 Only a day of song, 
 Only a night of sadness 
 
 Lastin' de w'ole life long. 
 Over de mountain, over de mountain, 
 Hear heem call, 
 Hear heem call poor leetle rossignol ! 
 
 Meb-be 
 
 A QUIET boy was Joe Bedotte, 
 
 An' no sign anw'ere 
 Of anyt'ing at all he got 
 
 Is up to ordinaire 
 An' w'en de teacher tell heem go 
 
 An' tak' a holiday, 
 For wake heem up, becos' he 's slow, 
 Poor Joe would only say, 
 
 "Wall!meb-be." 
 
 Don't bodder no wan on de school 
 
 Unless dey bodder heem, 
 But all de scholar t'ink he 's fool 
 
 Or walkin' on a dream 
 So w'en dey re closin' on de spring 
 
 Of course dey 're moche surprise 
 Dat Joe is takin' ev'ryt'ing 
 
 Of w'at you call de prize. 
 325
 
 MEB-BE 
 
 An' den de teacher say, "Joseph, 
 
 I know you 're workin' hard 
 Becos' w'en I am pass mese'f 
 
 I see you on de yard 
 A-splittin' wood no doubt you stay 
 
 An' study half de night?" 
 An' Joe he spik de sam' ole way 
 
 So quiet an' polite, 
 
 "Wall!meb-be. ! 
 
 Hees fader an' hees moder die 
 
 An' lef heem dere alone 
 Wit' chil'ren small enough to cry, 
 
 An' farm all rock an' stone 
 But Joe is fader, moder too, 
 
 An' work bote day an' night 
 An' clear de place dat 's w'at he do, 
 
 An' bring dem up all right. 
 
 De Cure* say, " Jo-seph, you know 
 
 Le bon Dieu 's very good 
 He feed de small bird on de snow, 
 
 De caribou on de wood 
 But you deserve some credit too 
 
 I spik of dis before. " 
 So Joe he dunno w'at to do 
 
 An' only say wance more, 
 
 "Wall!meb-be." 
 326
 
 SNUBBING THE RAFT 
 
 An' Joe he leev' for many year 
 
 An' helpin' ev'ry wan 
 Upon de parish far an' near 
 
 Till all hees money 's gone 
 An' den de Cure come again 
 
 Wit' tear-drop on hees eye 
 He know for sure poor Joe, hees frien', 
 
 Is well prepare to die. 
 
 "Wall! Joe, de work you done will tell 
 
 W'en you get up above 
 De good God he will treat you well 
 
 An' geev' you all hees love. 
 De poor an' sick down here below, 
 
 I 'm sure dey '11 not forget, " 
 An' w'at you t'ink he say, poor Joe, 
 
 Drawin' hees only breat'? 
 
 "Wall!meb-be.' 
 
 Snubbing (Tying-up) the Raft 
 
 AS' night dey 're passin', de golden plover, 
 Dis mornin' I 'm seein' de bluebird's 
 
 wing, 
 
 So if not'ing go wrong, de winter 's over, 
 An' not very long till we got de spring. 
 327
 
 SNUBBING THE RAFT 
 
 An' nex' t'ing de reever she '11 start a-hummin', 
 An' den you '11 hear it, de song an' laugh, 
 
 Is teilin' de news, de boys are comin' 
 Home again on de saw-log raf. 
 
 All very well for see dem swingin' 
 Roun* de beeg islan' dere on de bay, 
 
 Nice t'ing too, for to hear dem singin', 
 'Cos it mak' me t'ink of de good ole day. 
 
 An' me I could lissen dem song forever, 
 But it is n't so pleasan' w'en evenin' fall, 
 
 An' dey 're lookin' for place to stay, an' never 
 Snub de raf on ma place at all 
 
 Dat 's de fine cove if dey only know it 
 Hard to fin' better on St. Maurice, 
 
 Up de reever or down below it, 
 
 An' house on de hill only leetle piece. 
 
 Wat is de reason den, w'en dey fin' dem 
 Raf comin' near me, dey all get scare, 
 
 An' pull lak de devil was close behin' dem, 
 An' way down de reever to Joe Belair? 
 
 Two mile more, wit' de rock an' stone dere, 
 An' water so shallow can't float canoe, 
 
 But ev'ry boy of de gang, he 's goin' dere, 
 Even de cook, an' de captain too 
 328
 
 SNUBBING THE RAFT 
 
 Wat is de reason, I lak to know me 
 Ma own leetle cove 's lyin empty dere, 
 
 An' nobody stop till dey go below me, 
 Snubbin' de raf on Joe Belair? 
 
 Not'ing lak dat twenty year ago, sir, 
 Wen voyageurs' comin' from up above, 
 
 Dere 's only wan place us feller know, sir, 
 Wen dey 're goin' ashore, an' dat 's de cove. 
 
 An' dere on door of de house she 's stannin' 
 To welcome us back, Madame Baribeau, 
 
 An' Pierre hese'f, he was on de lannin', 
 Ready for ketchin' de rope we t'row. 
 
 An' oh! de girl use to mak' us crazy 
 For many a fine girl Pierre has got 
 
 Right on de jomp too never lazy, 
 But Sophie 's de fines' wan of de lot. 
 
 Me I was only a common feller, 
 An' love wall ! jus' lak de leetle calf, 
 
 An it 's true, I 'm sure, w'at dey often tell her, 
 I 'm de uglies' man on boar' de raf. 
 
 But Sophie 's so nice an' good shese'f too, 
 
 De uglies' man upon all de worl' 
 Forget hees face an' forget hese'f too, 
 
 T'ree minute affer he see dat girl 
 329
 
 SNUBBING THE RAFT 
 
 An' dat 's de reason de chance is better, 
 
 For you must n't be t'ink of you' se'f at all, 
 
 But t'ink of de girl if you want to get her 
 An' so we 're marry upon de fall. 
 
 An' purty soon den dey all get started, 
 For marryin' fever come so strong 
 
 Wen de firse wan go, dat dey 're broken- 
 hearted 
 An' tak' mos' anyt'ing come along. 
 
 So Joe Belair, w'en hees house is buil' dere, 
 He go down de reever wit' Eugenie, 
 
 An' place I settle on top de hill dere, 
 De ole man geev' it to Sophie an' me. 
 
 An' along dey come, wan foller de oder, 
 
 Dozen o' girl not a boy at all 
 Never a girl tak' affer de moder, 
 
 But all lak de fader, beeg an' small 
 
 A dozen o' girl, of course, no wonder 
 A few of dem look lak me sapree ! 
 
 But w'en dey 're comin' dat way, ba tonder! 
 She 's jus' a leetle too moche for me. 
 
 An' Joe Belair, he was down below me, 
 
 Funny t'ing too, he is ketch also, 
 Ev'ryt'ing girl how it come dunno me 
 
 But dey 're all lak de familee Baribeau 
 330
 
 .SNUBBING THE RAFT 
 
 Growin' up purty de sam' de moder 
 An' soon as dey know it along de shore 
 
 De boys stop comin' an' never bodder 
 For snub de raf on ma place no more 
 
 So w'at is de chance ma girl she 's gettin', 
 Don't care w'ere I look, none at all I see, 
 
 No use, I s'pose, kipin' on a-frettin', 
 
 Dough it 's very hard case poor, man lak me. 
 
 W'at '11 I do for bring dem here, me? 
 
 Can't be blowin' dem to de moon 
 Or buil' a dam on de reever near me 
 
 For fear we 're sure to be drownin' soon. 
 
 To-night I can hear hees darn ole fiddle, 
 
 Playin' away on Joe Belair 
 Can hear heem holler, ' ' Pass down de middle 
 
 An' dance on your partner over dere. " 
 
 Pleasan' t'ing too, for to smell de w'isky 
 Off on de leetle back room ba oui 
 
 Helpin' de ole folk mak' dem frisky, 
 
 Very pleasan' for dem, but not for me 
 
 Oh ! it mak' me mad, an' I 'm tire tryin' 
 To show how I feel, an' it 's hard to tell 
 
 So I '11 geev' it up, for dere 's no good cryin' ; 
 'Sides w'at is de use of a two-mile smell? 
 33i
 
 A RAINY DAY IN CAMP 
 
 Non! I don't go dere if dey all invite me, 
 Or de worl' itse'f she come to an' en'. 
 
 De Bishop hese'f , ba Gosh ! can write me, 
 But Jo-seph Belair, he 's no more ma frien'. 
 
 Can't fin' me dere if de sky come down, sir, 
 I rader ma girl she would never dance 
 
 But far away,, off on de Yankee town, sir, 
 
 I '11 tak' dem w'ere mebbe dey have a chance. 
 
 An' reever an' cove, dough I '11 not forget 
 dem, 
 
 An' voyageurs too, an' Joe Belair, 
 Can do w'at dey lak, an' me I '11 let dem 
 
 Go w'ere dey want to, for I don't care. 
 
 A Rainy Day in Camp 
 
 A RAINY day in camp ! how you draw the 
 
 blankets closer, 
 As the big drops patter, patter on the 
 
 shingles overhead, 
 How you shudder when recalling your wife's 
 
 "You ought to know, sir, 
 That it 's dangerous and improper to smoke 
 a pipe in bed." 
 
 332
 
 A RAINY DAY IN CAMP 
 
 A rainy day in camp! is it possible to find 
 
 better? 
 Tho' the lake is like a caldron, and aloft the 
 
 thunder rolls ; 
 Yet the old canoe is safely on the shore where 
 
 you can let her 
 
 Stay as long as Jupiter Pluvius in the clouds 
 is punching holes. 
 
 A rainy day in camp! and the latest publica- 
 tion 
 That the mice have left unnibbled, tells you 
 
 all about "Eclipse," 
 How the Derby fell before him, how he beat 
 
 equine creation, 
 
 But the story yields to slumber with the pipe 
 between your lips. 
 
 Wake again and turn the pages, where they 
 
 speak of Lester Wallack 
 And the heroes of the buskin over thirty 
 
 years ago- 
 Then in case the damp surroundings cause an 
 
 inconvenient colic, 
 
 What 's the matter with the treatment neu- 
 tralizing II 2 O? 
 
 333
 
 A RAINY DAY IN CAMP 
 
 A rainy day in camp! what an interesting col- 
 lection, 
 In this magazine so ancient, of items small 
 
 and great 
 The History of the Negro, illustrating every 
 
 section, 
 
 So different from the present White House 
 Colored Fashion Plate ! 
 
 A rainy day in camp ! and you wonder how the 
 
 C. P. 
 And the G. T. competition will affect the 
 
 Golden West 
 But these problematic matters only tend to 
 
 make you sleepy, 
 
 And again beneath the blankets, like a babe 
 you sink to rest. 
 
 Cometh now the giant moose heads, that no 
 
 eye of man can number 
 Every rain-drop on the roof-tree is a plung- 
 ing three-pound trout-r- 
 Till u musk ox in a snow-drift turns and butts 
 
 you out of slumber, 
 
 And you wake to hear Bateese say, "Dat 's 
 too bad, de fire 's gone out. " 
 334
 
 JOSETTE 
 
 A rainy night in camp! with the blazing logs 
 
 before us, 
 Let the wolf howl in the forest and the loon 
 
 scream on the lake, 
 
 Turn them loose, the wild performers of Na- 
 ture's Opera Chorus 
 
 And ask if Civilization 'can sweeter music 
 make. 
 
 Josette 
 
 T SEE Josette on de car to-day, 
 
 Leetle Josette Couture, 
 An' it 's easy tellin' she 's been away 
 
 On market of Bonsecour 
 'Cos dere 's de blueberry on de pail 
 
 Wit' more t'ing lyin' about 
 An' dere 's de basket wit' de tail 
 
 Of de chicken stickin' out. 
 
 Ev'ry conductor along de road 
 
 Help her de bes' he can, 
 An' I see dem sweat wit' de heavy load, 
 
 Many a beeg, strong man 
 But it 's differen' t'ing w'en she tak' hoi', 
 
 Leavin' dem watchin' dere 
 For wedder de win' blow hot or cole 
 
 Josette never turn a hair. 
 335
 
 JOSETTE 
 
 Wonderful woman for seexty-five 
 
 Smart leetle woman sure! 
 An' if he 's wan tin' to kip alive 
 
 On church of de Bonsecour 
 De pries' he mus' rise 'fore de rooster crow, 
 
 Or mebbe he '11 be too late 
 For seein' dere on de street below, 
 
 Josette comin' in de gate. 
 
 An' half of de mornin' she don't spen' dere 
 
 Hangin' aroun' de pew 
 Bodderin' God wid de long, long prayer 
 
 For bote of dem got to do 
 Plaintee work 'fore de day 's gone by r 
 
 An' well she know Josette 
 No matter how busy an' hard she try, 
 
 De work 's never finish yet. 
 
 An' well he know it, de habitant, 
 
 Who is it ketch heem, w'en 
 He 's drivin' along from St. Laurent 
 
 For it 's easier bargain den 
 'Cos if de habitant only sole 
 
 De whole of hees load dat way 
 Of course he 's savin' de market toll 
 
 An' not'ing at all to pay. 
 336
 
 JOE BOUCHER 
 
 Dey call her ole maid, but I can't tell me 
 
 De cmTren she has got : 
 No fader, no moder, dat 's way dey be 
 
 You never see such a lot 
 An' if you ax how she fin' de clothes 
 
 An' food for de young wan dere 
 She say: "Wit' de help of God, I s'pose 
 
 An' de leetle shop down stair." 
 
 Comin' an' goin' mos' all de tarn, 
 
 Helpin' dem all along, 
 Jus' lak de ole sheep watch de lamb 
 
 Till dey are beeg an' strong 
 Not'ing lak dat I be seein' yet, 
 
 An' it 's hard to beat for sure 
 So dat 's de reason dey call Josette 
 
 Leetle Sister of de poor. 
 
 Joe Boucher 
 
 Air " Car si man moine." 
 
 JOE BOUCHER was a frien' of mine, 
 Joe Boucher was a happy man, 
 Till he tell a young girl he 'd lak to fin' 
 
 Some nice leetle wife for hees new cabane. 
 Now he 's los' hees life too, 
 All on account of de wife too, 
 An' I know you '11 be sorry 'bout dat poor feller. 
 I know you '11 be sorry for Joe Boucher. 
 " 337
 
 JOE BOUCHER 
 
 De nam' dat girl she 's Azeel-daw, 
 
 An' party good worker, too, dey say 
 
 She don't lose chance for a brave gargon, 
 An' so she marry Joe Boucher. 
 
 Now he 's los' hees life too, 
 
 All on account of de wife too, 
 
 An' I know you '11 be sorry 'bout dat poor feller* 
 
 I know you '11 be sorry for Joe Boucher. 
 
 Den off on de wood poor Joe he lef ', 
 
 An' w'en he 's home wit' de bird in spring,. 
 An' fin' leetle feller jus' lak hese'f . 
 
 Mebbe Joe don't dance an' Joe don't sing! 
 Now he 's los' hees life too, 
 All on account of hees wife too, 
 An' I know you '11 be sorry 'bout dat poor feller,. 
 I know you '11 be sorry for Joe Boucher. 
 
 Dat 's all very well till de fall come along, 
 An' Joe got to go on de bush encore, 
 
 But w'en he come back he sing no song, 
 For dere was two leetle baby more. 
 
 Now he 's los' hees life too, 
 
 All on account of de wife too, 
 
 An I know you '11 be sorry 'bout dat poor 
 feller, 
 
 I know you '11 be sorry for Joe Boucher. 
 338
 
 JOE BOUCHER 
 
 He don't say not'ing, but he t'ink beeg lot, 
 An' won't tak' a drink for two, t'ree day, 
 
 But not moche money poor Joe he got, 
 So off on de reever he 's goin' away. 
 
 Now he 's IDS' hees life too, 
 
 All on account of de wife too, 
 
 An' I know you '11 be sorry 'bout dat poor 
 feller, 
 
 I know you '11 be sorry for Joe Boucher. 
 
 Wen May come along dat beau garc,on 
 
 He 's only gettin' anoder scare 
 For he know by de smile on Azeel-daw 
 
 She got t'ree fine new baby dere. 
 Now he 's los' hees life too, 
 All on account of de wife too, 
 An' I know you '11 be sorry 'bout dat poor 
 
 feller, 
 I know you '11 be sorry for Joe Boucher. 
 
 So he kill hese'f dead, dat beau garcon 
 
 He work so hard for de familee, 
 An' he say, "Too bad, but Azeel-daw, 
 
 I 'm sorry she marry poor man lak me. " 
 Now he 's los' hees life too, 
 All on account of hees wife too, 
 An' I know you '11 be sorry 'bout dat poor 
 
 feller, 
 
 I know you '11 be sorry for Joe Boucher. 
 339
 
 CHARMETTE 
 
 "Now I know very well dat all poor man 
 He tak' some chance w'en he get marie", 
 
 So he better look out all de bes' he can, 
 Or he '11 be ketch lak Joe Boucher 
 
 Now he 's los' hees life too, 
 
 All on account of de wife too, 
 
 An' I know you '11 be sorry 'bout dat poor 
 feller, 
 
 I know you '11 be sorry for Joe Boucher. 
 
 Charmette 
 
 A WAY off back on de mountain-side, 
 
 Not easy t'ing fin' de spot, 
 Were de lake below is long an' wide, 
 
 A nice leetle place I got, 
 Mebbe ten foot deep by twenty-two, 
 
 An' if you see it, I bet 
 You '11 not be surprise w'en I tole to you 
 I chrissen dat place Charmette. 
 
 Dat 's purty beeg word, Charmette, for go 
 
 On poor leetle house so small, 
 Wit' only wan chimley, a winder or so, 
 
 An' no galerie at all 
 But I want beeg word, so de worl' will know 
 
 W'at dat place it was mean to me, 
 ,An' dere on de book of Jean Jacques Rousseau, 
 
 Charmette is de nam' I see. 
 340
 
 CHARMETTE 
 
 O ma dear Charmette! an' de stove is dere, 
 
 (Good stove) an' de wood-pile too. 
 An' stretch out your finger mos' anyw'ere, 
 
 Dere 's plaintee for comfort you 
 You 're hongry? wall! you got pork an' bean 
 
 Mak' you feel lak Edouard de King 
 You 're torsty? Jus' look dere behin' de 
 screen, 
 
 An' mebbe you fin' somet'ing 
 
 Ha! Ha! you got it. Ma dear Charmette. 
 
 Dere 's many fine place, dat 's true, 
 If you travel aroun' de worl', but yet 
 
 Were is de place lak you? 
 Open de door, don't kip it close 
 
 Wat 's air of de mornin' for? 
 Would you fassen de door on de win' dat blows 
 
 Over God's own boulevard? *Y 
 
 You see dat lake? Wall! I alway hate 
 
 To brag but she 's full of trout, 
 So full dey can't jump togeder, but wait 
 
 An* tak' deir chance, turn about 
 An' if you be campin' up dere above, 
 
 De mountain would be so high, 
 Very off en de camp you 'd have to move, 
 
 Or how can de moon pass by?
 
 LAC SOUCI 
 
 It 's wonderful place for sure, Charmette, 
 
 An' ev'ry wan say to me 
 I got all de pleasure de man can get 
 
 'Cept de wife an' de familee 
 But somebody else can marry ma wife, 
 
 Have de familee too also, 
 Wat more do I want, so long ma life 
 
 Was spare to me here below? 
 
 For we can't be happier dan we been 
 
 Over twenty year, no siree! 
 An' if ever de stranger come between 
 
 De leetle Charmette an' me, 
 Den all I can say is, kip out de way, 
 
 For dynamite sure I '11 get, 
 An' affer dat you can hunt all day 
 
 For me an' ma dear Charmette. 
 
 Lac Souci 
 
 ' I *ALK about lakes ! dere 's none dat lies in 
 
 Laurentide mountain or near de sea, 
 Wen de star 's gone off an' de sun is risin', 
 
 Can touch w'at dey call it Lac Souci, 
 Restin' dere wit' de woods behin' her, 
 
 Sleepin' dere t'roo de summer night 
 But watch her affer de mornin' 's fin' her, 
 An* over de hill-top shine de light. 
 342
 
 LAC SOUCI 
 
 See w'ere de shadder sweep de water, 
 
 Pine tree an' cloud, how dey come an' go; 
 Careful now, an' you '11 see de otter 
 
 Slidin' into de pool below 
 Look at de loon w'en de breeze is ketch heem 
 
 Shakin' hese'f as he cock de eye! 
 Takes a nice leetle win' to fetch heem, 
 
 So he 's gettin' a chance to fly. 
 
 Every bird dey mus' kip behin' heem 
 
 W'en he 's only jus* flap de wing, 
 Ah! dere he 's goin' but never min' heem, 
 
 For lissen de robin begin to sing 
 Trout 's comin' up too ! dat 's beeg rise dere,. 
 
 Four of dem ! Golly ! it 's purty hard case, 
 No rod here, an' dey 're all good size dere ! 
 
 Don't ax me not'ing about de place. 
 
 No use nobody goin' murder 
 
 T'ree an' four pounder lak dat, siree! 
 Wall! if you promise it won't go furder 
 
 I '11 tole you nex' summer bimeby 
 
 mebbe 
 W'at is dat movin' among de spruce dere? 
 
 Sure as I 'm livin' dere 's 'noder wan too 
 Offen enough I 'm gettin' a moose dere, 
 
 Non ! It 's only a couple of caribou. 
 343
 
 LAC SOUCI 
 
 Black duck so early? See how dey all come, 
 
 Wan leetle family roun' de ben' 
 Let dem enjoy it, wait till de fall come, 
 
 Dey won't be feelin' so happy den! 
 Smoke on de mountain? Yass, I can smell her- 
 
 Who is it now, Jean Bateese Boucher? 
 Geev' me some tam, an' I '11 feex dat feller 
 
 Shootin' de moose on de summer day. 
 
 Wat do you t'ink of a sapree beaver 
 
 Kittin' hees tail on de lake dat way? 
 Ought to be home wit' hees wife not leave 
 her 
 
 Workin' away on de house all day 
 Punny t'ing, too, how he alway fin' me 
 
 Sailin' along on de ole canoe, 
 Lookin' for sign den bang! behin' me 
 
 An' down on de water dat 's w'at he do. 
 
 Otter feeshin' an' bob cat cryin' 
 
 Up on de sky de beeg black hawk 
 Down on de swamp w'cre a dead log 's lyin', 
 
 Pa'tridge doin' hees own cake-walk! 
 If you never was seen dem, hear dem 
 
 Tak' leetle tour on de Lac Souci, 
 An' w'enever you 're comin' near dem, 
 
 You 're goin' crazy de sam' as me. 
 344
 
 POIRIER'S ROOSTER 
 
 Talk about lakes of every nation, 
 
 Talk about water of any kin', 
 Don't matter you go over all creation 
 
 De Lac Souci she can beat dem blin'. 
 Happy to leev an' happy to die dere 
 
 But Heaven itself won't satisfy me, 
 Till I fin' leetle hole off on de sky dere 
 
 Were I can be lookin' on Lac Souci ! 
 
 Poirier's Rooster 
 
 4 \\7 'AT 's dat? de ole man gone, you say 
 
 Wall! Wall! he mus' be sick, 
 For w'en he pass de oder day, 
 
 He walk along widout de stick, 
 Lak twenty year or so 
 Fine healt'y man, ole Telesphore, 
 I never see heem sick before, 
 Some rheumateez, but not'ing more 
 Please tell me how he go. " 
 
 You 're right, no common t'ing for sure 
 
 Is kill heem lak de res' ; 
 No sir! de man was voyageur 
 
 Upon de Grande Nor' Wes' 
 Until he settle here 
 Is not de feller 's goin' die 
 Before he 's ready by an' bye, 
 So if you want de reason w'y 
 
 I '11 tell you, never fear. 
 345
 
 POIRIER'S ROOSTER 
 
 You know how moche he lak to spik 
 
 An' tole us ev'ryt'ing about 
 De way de French can alway lick 
 
 An' pull de w'ole worl' inside out, 
 Poor Telesphore Cadotte ! 
 He 's knowin' all de victory, 
 An' braves' t'ing was never be. 
 To hear heem talk it 's easy see 
 He 's firse-class patriot. 
 
 Hees leetle shoe store ev'ry night 
 
 Can hardly hoi' de crowd of folk 
 Dat come to lissen on de fight, 
 
 An' w'en you see de pile of smoke 
 An' hear ole Telesphore 
 Hammer de boot upon hees knee, 
 You t'ink of course of Chateauguay, 
 An' feel dat 's two, t'ree enemy 
 
 Don't bodder us no more. 
 
 But oh! dat evening w'en he sen' 
 De call aroun' for come en masse, 
 
 An' den he say, "Ma dear ole frien', 
 Dere 's someting funny come to pass, 
 
 I lak you all to hear 
 
 You know dat Waterloo affair? 
 
 H-s-s-h ! don't get excite, you was n't dere 
 
 All quiet? Wall! I '11 mak' it square, 
 So lissen on your ear. 
 346
 
 POIRIER'S ROOSTER 
 
 " I 'm readin' on de book to-day 
 
 Some book, dey say, was guarantee), 
 An' half a dollar too I pay, 
 
 But cheap, because it 's tellin' me 
 De t'ing I 'm glad to know 
 Of course de w'ole worl' understan' 
 Napoleon fight de bes* he can, 
 But he 's not French at all, dat man, 
 But leetle small Da-go. 
 
 "Anoder t'ing was mak' it show 
 Dere 's not'ing new below de sun, 
 Is w'en I 'm findin' as I go 
 Dat feller dey call Welling-ton, 
 He 's English? No siree! 
 But only maudit Irlandais! 
 (Dat 's right! dey 're alway in de way, 
 Dem Irish folk), an' so I say 
 I 'm satisfy for me. 
 
 "It 's not our fault, dat 's all explain 
 Dere 's no use talk of Waterloo, 
 Not our affair " an' off again 
 He hammer, hammer on de shoe, 
 An' don't say not'ing more, 
 But w'issle "Madame Isabeau," 
 Good news lak dat is cheer heem so 
 Den tak' a drink before we go, 
 
 De poor ole Telesphore! 
 347
 
 POIRIER'S ROOSTER 
 
 An' now he 's gone! Wall! I dunno, 
 Can't say he 's better off meb-be, 
 Don't work so hard on w'ere he go 
 Dat 's wan t'ing sure I 'm t'inkin' me 
 Unless he los' hees track. 
 But w'en dat boy come rtmnin' in 
 De leetle shop, an' start begin 
 On Poirier's rooster, how he win 
 I lak to break hees back. 
 
 Poor Telesphore was tellin' how 
 Joe Monferrand can't go to sleep, 
 
 Until he 's kickin' up de row, 
 
 Den pile dem nearly ten foot deep, 
 
 Dem English sojer man 
 
 Can't blame de crowd dey all hooraw, 
 
 For bes' man on de Ottawaw, 
 
 An' geev' free cheer for Canadaw, 
 De very bes' dey can. 
 
 An' Telesphore again he start 
 
 For tell de story leetle more, 
 Anoder wan before we part, 
 
 W'en bang! a small boy t'roo de door 
 On w'at you call "full pelt," 
 Is yellin' till it reach de skies, 
 "Poirier's rooster got de prize, 
 Poirier's rooster got de prize, 
 
 An' win de Champion belt!" 
 348
 
 DOMINIQUE 
 
 An' sure enough, he beat dem all, 
 
 Joe Poirier's leetle red game bird, 
 On beeges' show dey have dis fall,- 
 
 De Yankee rooster only t'ird 
 An' Irish number two 
 We hear a jump, an' Telesphore 
 I never see de lak before 
 He flap hees wing upon de floor 
 An' cock a doodle doo! 
 
 Dat 's finish heem, he 's gone at las', 
 
 An' never come aroun' again 
 We '11 miss heem w'en we 're goin' pas', 
 
 An' see no light upon de pane 
 But pleasure we have got, 
 We '11 kip it on de memory yet, 
 An' dough of course we '11 offen fret, 
 Dere 's wan t'ing sure, we '11 not forget 
 Poor Telesphore Cadotte! 
 
 Dominique 
 
 *V7"OU dunno ma leetle boy Dominique? 
 
 Never see heem runnin' roun' about de 
 place? 
 'Cos I want to get advice how to lap heem 
 
 lookin' nice, 
 
 So he won't be alway dirty on de face 
 349
 
 DOMINIQUE 
 
 Now dat leetle boy of mine, Dominique, 
 
 If you wash heem an' you sen' heem off to 
 
 school, 
 But instead of goin' dere, he was playin' fox 
 
 an' hare 
 Can you tell me how to stop de leetle fool? 
 
 " I 'd tak' dat leetle feller Dominique, 
 
 An' I 'd put heem on de cellar ev'ry day, 
 An' for workin' out a cure, bread an' water 's 
 
 very sure, 
 
 You can bet he mak' de promise not to 
 play!" 
 
 Dat 's very well to say, but ma leetle Domi- 
 nique 
 
 Wen de jacket we put on heem 's only new, 
 An' he 's goin' travel roun' on de medder up 
 
 an' down, 
 Wit' de strawberry on hees pocket runnin' 
 
 t'roo, 
 An' w'en he climb de fence, see de hole upon 
 
 hees pant, 
 
 No wonder hees poor moder 's feelin' mad! 
 So if you ketch heem den, w'at you want to 
 
 do, ma frien' ? 
 
 Tell me quickly an' before he get too bad. 
 350
 
 DOMINIQUE 
 
 "I 'd lick your leetle boy Dominique, 
 
 I 'd lick heem till he 's cryin' purty hard, 
 An' for fear he 's gettin' spile, I 'd geev' heem 
 
 castor ile, 
 
 An' I would n't let heem play outside de 
 yard." 
 
 If you see ma leetle boy Dominique 
 
 Hangin' on to poor ole "Billy" by de tail, 
 Wen dat horse is feelin' gay, lak I see heem 
 
 yesterday, 
 
 I s'pose you t'ink he 's safer on de jail? 
 Wen I 'm lightin' up de pipe on de evenin' 
 
 affer work, 
 
 An' de powder dat young rascal 's puttin' in, 
 It was makin' such a pouf, nearly blow me 
 
 t'roo de roof 
 Wat 's de way you got of showin' 't was a sin ? 
 
 "Wall! I put heem on de jail right away, 
 You may bet de wan is got de beeges' wall! 
 
 A honder foot or so, w'ere dey never let heem go, 
 Non! I wouldn't kip a boy lak dat at all." 
 
 Dat 's good advice for sure, very good, 
 On de cellar, bread an' water it '11 do, 
 
 De nice sweet castor ile geev' heem ev'ry leetle 
 
 w'ile, 
 An' de jail to finish up wit' w'en he 's t'roo !
 
 HOME 
 
 Ah! ma frien', you never see Dominique, 
 Wen he 's lyin' dere asleep upon de bed, 
 
 If you do, you say to me, "Wat an angel he 
 
 mus' be, 
 An' dere can't be not'ing bad upon hees head." 
 
 Many t'ank for your advice, an' it may be 
 
 good for some, 
 But de reason you was geev' it is n't very 
 
 hard to seek 
 Yass! it 's easy seein' now w'en de talk is 
 
 over, how 
 You dunno ma leetle boy Dominique. 
 
 Home 
 
 ' f~\ H ! Mother the bells are ringing as never 
 
 they rang before, 
 And banners aloft are flying, and open is every 
 
 door, 
 While down in the streets are thousands of 
 
 men I have never seen 
 But friendly are all the faces oh! Mother, 
 
 what can it mean?" 
 
 "My little one," said the mother, "for many 
 
 long, weary years 
 Thro' days that the sunshine mocked at, and 
 
 nights that were wet with tears, 
 352
 
 HOME 
 
 I have waited and watched in silence, too 
 
 proud to speak, and now 
 The pulse of my heart is leaping, for the 
 
 children have kept the vow. 
 
 "And there they are coming, coming, the 
 
 brothers you never knew, 
 But, sightless, my ears would know them, so 
 
 steady and firm and true 
 Is the tramp of men whose fathers trod where 
 
 the wind blows free, 
 Over the heights of Queenston, and willows of 
 
 Chateaugay. 
 
 "For whether it be a thousand, or whether a 
 single man 
 
 In the calm of peace, or battle, since ever the 
 race began, 
 
 No human eye has seen it 't is an undis- 
 covered clime, 
 
 Where the feet of my children's fathers have 
 not stepped and beaten time. 
 
 "The enemy at my threshold had boasted and 
 
 jeered and cried 
 
 'The pledge of your offsprings' birthright your 
 children have swept aside 
 23 353
 
 HOME 
 
 They cumber the land of strangers, they dwell 
 
 in the alien's tent 
 Till "home" is a word forgotten, and "love" 
 
 but a bow unbent. 
 
 "Planners and builders of cities (were ever 
 
 such men as these?), 
 Counsellors, guides, and moulders of the 
 
 strangers' destinies 
 Conquerors, yet are they conquered, and this 
 
 is the word and sign, 
 You boast of their wise seed-sowing, but the 
 
 harvest they reap is mine.' 
 
 ''Ah! little the stranger knew me this mock- 
 ing but friendly foe, 
 
 The youngest mother of nations! how could 
 the stranger know 
 
 The faith of the old grey mother, her sorrows 
 and hopes and fears? 
 
 Let her speak . when her sons are tested, like 
 mine, for a thousand years! 
 
 "Afar in the dim savanna when the dawn of 
 
 the spring is near, 
 What is it wakes the wild goose, calling him 
 
 loud and clear? 
 
 354
 
 HOME 
 
 What is it brings him homeward, battered and 
 
 tempest-torn? 
 Are they weaker than birds of passage, the 
 
 children whom I have borne? 
 
 "Nay! the streets of the city tremble with the 
 
 tread that shakes the world, 
 When the sons of the blood foregather, and 
 
 the mother flag flies unfurled 
 Brothers are welcoming brothers, and the 
 
 voices that pierce the blue 
 Answer the enemy's taunting and the chil- 
 
 dren of York are true ! 
 
 "Wanderers maybe, traitors never! By the 
 
 scroll of their fathers' lives ! 
 The faith of the land that bore them, and the 
 
 honor of their wives ! 
 We may lose them, our own strong children l 
 
 blossom and root and stem 
 But the cradle will be remembered, and homo 
 
 is aye home to them!" 
 
 Canadian Forever 
 
 our fathers crossed the ocean 
 In the glorious days gone by, 
 They breathed their deep emotion 
 In many a tear and sigh 
 355
 
 CANADIAN FOREVER 
 
 Tho' a brighter lay before them 
 Than the old, old land that bore them 
 And all the wide world knows now 
 That land was Canada. 
 
 So line up and try us, 
 Whoever would deny us 
 The freedom of our birthright 
 
 And they '11 find us like a wall 
 For we are Canadian Canadian forever 
 
 Canadian forever-^Canadian over all. 
 
 Our fathers came to win us 
 
 This land beyond recall 
 And the same blood flows within us 
 
 Of Briton, Celt, and Gaul 
 Keep alive each glowing ember 
 Of our sireland, but remember 
 Our country is Canadian 
 
 Whatever may befall. 
 
 So line up and try us, 
 Whoever would deny us 
 The freedom of our birthright 
 
 And they '11 find us like a wall 
 For we are Canadian, Canadian forever, 
 
 Canadian forever Canadian over all. 
 356
 
 TWINS 
 
 Who can blame them, who can blame us 
 
 If we tell ourselves with pride 
 How a thousand years to tame us 
 
 The foe has often tried 
 And should e'er the Empire need us, 
 She '11 require no chains to lead us, 
 For we are Empire's children 
 But Canadian over all. 
 
 Then line up and try us, 
 Whoever would deny us 
 The freedom of our birthright 
 
 And they '11 find us like a wall 
 For we are Canadian, Canadian forever, 
 
 Canadian forever Canadian over all ! 
 
 Twins 
 
 T CONGRATULATE ye, Francis, 
 And more power to yer wife 
 An' from Montreal to Kansas, 
 
 I could safely bet my life 
 Ye wor proud enough, I hould ye 
 
 Runnin' with the safety pins 
 Whin ould Mrs. Dolan tould ye, 
 "Milia murther! she has twins!" 
 357
 
 TWINS 
 
 Ye might kill me without warnin' 
 
 Lay me out there on the shelf 
 For a sight of ye that mornin', 
 
 Throwin' bookays at yerself ! 
 Faix! ye thought ye had a cinch there, 
 
 An' begob ! so well ye might, 
 For not even with the Frinch there, 
 
 Twins like thim come every night ! 
 
 Francis, aisy now an' listen 
 
 To yer mother's brother James 
 Whin the twins ye go to christen, 
 
 Don't ye give thim fancy names 
 Irene Edith Gladys Mavis 
 
 Cecil Rhodes an' Percival 
 If it 's names like that, Lord save us ! 
 
 Don't live close to the canal! 
 
 Michael Whalen of St. Lambert 
 
 Had a boy some years ago 
 Called him Clarence Montizambert > 
 
 Where he got it I dunno 
 Monty used to have a brother 
 
 (He was Marmaduke Fitzjames) 
 Killed himself some way or other 
 
 Thryin' to pronounce his names! 
 358
 
 KEEP OUT OF THE WEEDS 
 
 Bet was three times in a minute, 
 
 An' he thrained hard for the same, 
 But the lad was never in it 
 
 Tho' they tell me he died game ! 
 Well, sir! Monty grew the height of 
 
 Fin McCool or Brian Boru 
 Truth I 'm tellin', but in spite of 
 
 Ev'rything poor Mike could do 
 
 Divil a dacint situation 
 
 Monty got, but dhrive a hack, 
 
 At the Bona venture station 
 
 'T was the name that kept him back 
 
 Till his friend, John Reilly, tould him, 
 "Change the haythen name for Pat " 
 
 Pathrick Joseph now behould him 
 Walkin' dillygate! think o' that! 
 
 So be careful, Master Francis, 
 An' ye '11 bless yer uncle James 
 
 Don't be takin' any chances 
 
 With thim God-forsaken names ! 
 
 Keep Out of the Weeds 
 
 smarter man you can never know 
 Wen I was a boy, dan Pierre Nadeau, 
 An' quiet he 's too, very seldom talk, 
 But got an eye lak de mountain hawk, 
 See all aroun' heem mos' ev'ryw'ere, 
 An' not many folk is foolin' Pierre. 
 359
 
 KEEP OUT OF THE WEEDS 
 
 Often I use to be t'inkin' me 
 How on de worl' it was come to be 
 He know so moche, w'en he never go 
 On college or school, ole Pierre Nadeau, 
 Feesh on de reever de summer t'roo, 
 An' trap on de winter dat 's all he do. 
 
 ''Hi! boy Hi! put your book away, 
 An' come wit' your uncle Pierre to-day, 
 Ketch hoi' of de line an' hang on tight, 
 An' see if your moder won't cook to-night 
 Some nice fresh feesh for de familee, " 
 Many a tarn he was say to me 
 
 An' den I 'm quiet, too scare to spik, 
 Wile Pierre he paddle me down de crick, 
 Easy an' nice he mak' her go 
 Close to de shore w'ere de bulrush grow, 
 Were de pike an' de beeg feesh lak to feed, 
 Deir nose stickin' out w'ere you see de weed- 
 
 "Lissen, ma boy," say Pierre Nadeau, 
 "To some of de t'ing you ought to know: 
 Kip a lookout on de hook an* line, 
 In case dey 're gettin' too far behin' ; 
 For it 's purty hard job know w'at to do, 
 If de reever weed 's ketchin' hoi' of you. 
 360
 
 KEEP OUT OF THE WEEDS 
 
 "But if you want feesh, you mus' kip leeth 
 
 close, 
 
 For dat 's w'ere de beeg feller come de mos', 
 Not on de middle w'ere water 's bare, 
 But near to de rushes over dere. 
 'Cos dat was de spot dey alway feed 
 All de sam^-you got to look out for weed. 
 
 ' ' Ho ! Ho ! a strike ! let heem have it now 
 Gosh ! ain't he a-kickin' heem up de row, 
 Pullin' so hard, never min', ma son, 
 Wen he go lak dat he was nearly done, 
 But he 's all right now, so don't be afraid, 
 Jus' hit heem again wit' de paddle blade. 
 
 " Yass! over an' over, it 's good advice, 
 An' me, I know, for I pay de price 
 On w'at you call compoun' interes' too, 
 For larnin' de lesson I geev' to you, 
 Close as you lak, but, ma boy, tak' heed 
 You don't run into de beeg long weed. 
 
 "An' by an' by w'en you 're growin' up, 
 An' mebbe drink of de black, black cup 
 Of trouble an' bodder an' dunno w'at, 
 You '11 say to you' se'f, 'Wall! I forgot 
 De lesson ole Pierre he know I need,' 
 W'en he say to me, 'Boy, look out for weed' 
 361
 
 "For de worl 's de sam' as de reever dere, 
 
 Plaintee of weed lyin' ev'ryw'ere, 
 
 But work aroun' or your life is gone, 
 
 An' tak' some chance or you won't get on, 
 
 For if you don't feesh w'ere de weed is grow, 
 
 You '11 only ketch small leetle wan or so 
 
 " Dere 's no use sayin', ' I '11 wait an' see 
 If some of dem feesh don't come to me, 
 I '11 stay outside, for it 's pleasan' here, 
 Were de water 's lookin' so nice an' clear, ' 
 Dat 's way you '11 never get w'at you need 
 Keep feeshin' away, but look out for weed. " 
 
 Dat was de lesson ole Pierre Nadeau 
 Tell to me off en, so long ago 
 Poor ole Pierre! an' I 'm tryin' too, 
 Tak' hees advice, for I know it 's true, 
 But far as it goes we 're all de same breed, 
 An' it 's not so easy kip out de weed. 
 
 T)EY call it de Holy Islan' 
 
 W'ere de lighthouse stan' alone, 
 Lookin' across w'ere de breaker toss, 
 Over de beeg grey stone; 
 362
 
 THE HOLY ISLAND 
 
 Dey call it de Holy Islan,' 
 
 For wance, on de day gone by, 
 
 A holy man from a far-off Ian' 
 Is leevin' dere, till he die. 
 
 Down from de ole, ole people, 
 
 Scatter upon de shore, 
 De story come of Fader Jerome, 
 
 De pries' of Salvador 
 Makin' hees leetle house dere, 
 
 Wit' only hees own two han', 
 Workin' along, an' singin' de song 
 
 Nobody understan'. 
 
 "All for de ship an' sailor 
 
 Out on de stormy sea, 
 I mak' ma home, " say Fader Jerome, 
 
 "Were de rock an' de beeg wave be. 
 De good God up on de Heaven 
 
 Is answer me on de prayer, 
 An' bring me here, so I '11 never fear, 
 
 But foller heem ev'ryw'ere!" 
 
 Lonely it was, dat islan', 
 Seven league from de coas', 
 
 An' only de cry, so loud an' high, 
 Of de poor drown sailors' ghos' 
 363
 
 THE HOLY ISLAND 
 
 You hear, wit' de screamin' sea gull; 
 
 But de man of God he go 
 An' anchor dere, an' say hees prayer 
 
 For ev'rywan here below. 
 
 Night on de ocean 's fallin', 
 
 Deep is de fog, an' black, 
 As on dey come, to deir islan' home, 
 
 De sea-bird hurryin' back; 
 Wat is it mak' dem double 
 
 An' stop for a minute dere, 
 As if in fear of a soun' dey hear, 
 
 Meetin' dem on de air? 
 
 Sweeter dey never lissen, 
 
 Magic it seem to be, 
 Hangin' aroun' dat wonderful soun', 
 
 Callin' across de sea; 
 Music of bell 's widin it, 
 
 An' foller it on dey go 
 High on de air, till de islan' dere 
 
 Of Salvador lie below. 
 
 Dat 's w'ere de bell 's a-ringin' 
 
 Over de ocean track, 
 Troo fog an' rain an' hurricane, 
 
 An' w'enever de night is black; 
 364
 
 THE HOLY ISLAND 
 
 Kipin' de vow he 's makin', 
 Dat 's w'at he 's workin' for, 
 
 Ringin' de bell, an' he do it well, 
 De Fader of Salvador! 
 
 An' de years go by, an' quickly, 
 
 An' many a sailor's wife 
 She 's prayin' long, an' she 's prayin' strong 
 
 Dat God he will spare de life 
 Of de good, de holy Fader, 
 
 Off w'ere de breakers roar, 
 Only de sea for hees companie, 
 
 Alone on Salvador. 
 
 Summer upon de islan', 
 
 Quiet de sea an' air, 
 But no bell ring, an' de small bird sing, 
 
 For summer is ev'ryw'ere ; 
 A ship comin' in, an' on it 
 
 De wickedes' capitaine 
 Was never sail on de storm, or gale, 
 
 From here to de worl's en' ! 
 
 "Geev* me dat bell a-ringin 
 
 For not'ing at all, mon pere ; 
 Can't sleep at night, w'en de moon is bright, 
 
 For noise she was makin' dere. 
 365
 
 THE HOLY ISLAND 
 
 I 'm sure she was never chrissen, 
 An' we want no heretic bell; 
 
 Were is de book? For you mus' look 
 An' see if I chrissen it well!" 
 
 Leevin' heem broken-hearted, 
 
 For Fader Jerome is done, 
 He sail away wit' de bell dat day, 
 
 Capitaine Malcouronne; 
 An' down w'ere dead man 's lyin', 
 
 Down on de ocean deep, 
 He sink it dere, w'ile he curse an' swear, 
 
 An' tole it to go to sleep. 
 
 An' t'ree more year is passin', 
 
 An' now it 's a winter night: 
 Poor Salvador, so bles' before, 
 
 Is sittin' among de fight 
 Of breaker, an' sea-bird yellin', 
 
 An' noise of a tousan' gun, 
 Wen troo de fog, lak a dreefin' log, 
 
 Come Capitaine Malcouronne! 
 
 Gropin' along de sea dere, 
 
 Wonderin' w'ere he be, 
 Prayin' out loud, before all de crowd 
 
 Of sailor man on hees knee; 
 366
 
 THE HOLY ISLAND 
 
 Callin' upon de devil, 
 
 "Help! or I 'm gone!" he shout; 
 "Dat bell it go to you down below, 
 
 So now you can ring me out. 
 
 "To de open sea, an' affer 
 
 I promise you w'at I do. 
 Yass, ev'ry day I '11 alway pray 
 
 To you, an' to only you 
 Kip me in here no longer, 
 
 Or de shore I won't see again!" 
 T'ink of de prayer he 's makin' dere, 
 
 Dat wicked ole capitaine! 
 
 An' bell it commence a-ringin', 
 
 Quiet at firse, an' den 
 Lak tonder crash, de ship go smash, 
 
 An' w'ere is de capitaine? 
 An' de bell kip ringin,' ringin', 
 
 Drownin' de breakers' roar, 
 An' dere she lie, w'ile de sea-birds cry, 
 
 On de rock of Salvador. 
 
 The Riviere des Prairies 
 
 T SEE de many reever on de State an' ev'ry- 
 
 w'ere, 
 
 From Maine to California, New York to 
 Michigan, 
 
 367
 
 THE RIVIERE DES PRAIRIES 
 
 An' wan way an' de oder, I tell you I don't 
 
 care; 
 
 I travel far upon dem as moche as any man 
 But all de t'ousan' reever I was never pass 
 
 along, 
 
 For w'at dey call de beauty, from de moun- 
 tain to de sea, 
 Dere 's wan dat I be t'inkin', de wan w'ere I 
 
 belong, 
 
 Can beat dem all, an' easy, too, de Riviere 
 des Prairies! 
 
 Jus' tak' de Hudson Reever, an' de Mississippi 
 
 too, 
 Missouri, an' de res' of dem, an' oders I can't 
 
 t'irik, 
 
 Dey 're all beeg, dirty places, wit' de steam- 
 boat gruntin' troo, 
 An' de water runnin' in dem is black as any 
 
 ink, 
 An' de noises of dem reever never stoppin' 
 
 night or day, 
 An' de row along de shore, too, enough to 
 
 mak' you scare; 
 Not a feesh is wort' de eatin', 'less you're 
 
 starvin' by de way, 
 
 An' you 're feeling purty t'orsty if you 
 drink de water dere ! 
 368
 
 THE RIVIERE DES PRAIRIES 
 
 So ketch de han' I geev' you w'ile I 'm on de 
 
 humor now, 
 An' I bet you won't be sorry w'en you go 
 
 along wit' me, 
 For I show you all aroun' dere, until you 're 
 
 knowin' how 
 I come so moche to brag me on de 
 
 Riveire des Prairies. 
 It 's a cole October mornin', an' de maple leaf 
 
 is change 
 Ev'ry color you can t'ink of, from de purple 
 
 to de green; 
 On de shore de crowd of blackbird, an' de 
 
 crow begin' arrange 
 
 For de journey dey be takin' w'en de nort' 
 win's blowin' keen. 
 
 Quick! down among de bushes! don't you 
 
 hear de wiT goose cry 
 An' de honk de great beeg gander he was 
 
 makin* up above? 
 On de lake dey call Two Mountain is de place 
 
 dey 're goin' fly, 
 But only spen' de night-tam, for dey 're 
 
 alway on de move; 
 Jus' see de shadder dancin' up an' down, up 
 
 an' down, 
 
 You t'ink dcm geese was passin' in an' out 
 between de tree 
 
 369
 
 THE RIVIERE DES PRAIRIES 
 
 Wen de branch is bendin' over on de water all 
 
 aroun' 
 
 Now you see de place I 'm talkin', dat 's de 
 Riviere des Prairies ! 
 
 Missouri! Mississippi! better wait till you go 
 
 back 
 No tarn for talk about dem w'en dis reever 
 
 you can see, 
 But watch de cloud a-sailin' lak a racer on de 
 
 track, 
 An' lissen to de music of de Riviere des 
 
 Prairies 
 An' up along de shore dere, don't you envy 
 
 Bord a Plouffe? 
 Oh! dat's de place is lucky, have de reever 
 
 come so near 
 I 'm knowin' all de people, ev'ry chimley, 
 
 ev'ry roof, 
 For Bord a Plouffe she never change on over 
 
 feefty year! 
 
 St. Martin's bell is ringin', can't you hear it 
 
 easy now? 
 
 Dey 're marryin' or buryin' some good ole 
 frien' of me, 
 
 370 
 
 -
 
 THE RIVIERE DES PRAIRIES 
 
 I wonder who it can be, don't matter anyhow, 
 So long as we 're a-lookin' on de Riviere des 
 
 Prairies. 
 Only notice how de sun shine w'en he 's comin' 
 
 out to peep, 
 I 'm sure he 's leetle brighter dan anyw'ere 
 
 you see, 
 An' w'en de fall is over, an' de reever 's gone 
 
 to sleep, 
 
 De w'ites' snow is fallin' on de Riviere des 
 Prairies ! 
 
 I love you, dear ole reever, more dan ev'ry 
 
 Yankee wan; 
 An' if I get de money, you will see me on 
 
 de train, 
 Wit' couple o' t'ousan' dollar, den hooraw ! it 's 
 
 good-bye, John! 
 You can kill me if you ketch me leavin' Bord 
 
 a Plouffe again. 
 But sometam it '11 happen dat a feller 's gettin' 
 
 stop 
 Because he 's comin' busy wit' de wife an* 
 
 familee 
 No matter, if de good God he won't forget to 
 
 drop, 
 
 Ev'ry day an' night, hees blessin' on de 
 Riviere des Prairies!
 
 THE WIND THAT LIFTS THE FOG 
 
 The Wind that Lifts the Fog 
 
 /~\VER de sea de schooner boat 
 Star of de Sou? is all afloat, 
 Many a fine brave feesherman 
 Sailin' away for Newfunlan' ; 
 Ev'ry feller from St. Malo, 
 Dem is de boy can mak' her go! 
 Tearin' along t'roo storm or gale, 
 Never sparin' an inch of sail 
 
 Down below w'en de night is come, 
 
 Out wit' de bottle an : t'ink of home, 
 
 Push it aroun' till bottle 's drain, 
 
 An' drink no more till we 're home again, 
 
 "Here 's to de win' dat lif de fog, 
 
 No matter how she 's blowin', 
 
 Nort' or sout', eas' or wes', 
 
 Dat is de win' we love de bes', 
 
 Ev'ry sailor an' young sea dog, 
 
 Here 's to de win' dat lif' de fog 
 
 An' set de ship a-goin'." 
 
 Flyin' over de wave she go, 
 Star of de Sout' from St. Malo, 
 Never a tack, before she ran 
 Out on de bank of Newfunlan* 
 372
 
 THE WIND THAT LIFTS THE FOG 
 
 Drop de anchor, an' let her down, 
 Plaintee of comrade all aroun', 
 Feeshin' away till night is fall, 
 Singin' away wit' ev'ry haul, 
 "Here 's to de win' dat lif de fog, 
 No matter how she 's blowin' 
 Nort' or sout', eas' or wes', 
 Dat is de win' we love de bes', 
 Ev'ry sailor an' young sea dog, 
 Here 's to de win' dat lif de fog 
 An' set de ship a-goin'. " 
 
 Star of de Sout' did you see de light 
 Steamin' along dat foggy night? 
 Poor leetle bird ! anoder star 
 Shinin' above so high an' far 
 Dazzle you den, an' blin' de eye, 
 Wile down below on de sea you lie 
 Anchor dere wit' your broken wing 
 How could you fly w'en de sailor sing 
 "Here 's to de win' dat lif' de fog 
 No matter how she 's blowin', 
 Nort' or sout', eas' or wes', 
 Dat is de win' we love de bes', 
 Ev'ry sailor an' young sea dog, 
 Here 's to de win' dat lif de fog 
 An' set de ship a-goin'"? 
 373
 
 THE FOX HUNT 
 
 ' : M all bus' up, for a mont' or two, 
 
 On account of de wife I got, 
 Wit' de fuss an' troublesome t'ing she do, 
 
 She 's makin' me sick a lot ; 
 An' I 'm sorry dat woman was go to school 
 
 For larnin' de way to read, 
 Her fader an' moder is great beeg fool 
 For geevin' her more she need! 
 
 'Cos now it 's a paper ev'ry week, 
 
 Dollar a year, no less 
 Plaintee o' talkin' about musique^. 
 
 An' tell you de way to dress; 
 Of course dat 's makin' her try to sing 
 
 An' dress, till it 's easy see 
 She 's goin' crazy about de t'ing 
 
 Dey 're callin' Societee. 
 
 Las' week, no sooner I come along 
 
 From market of Bonsecour, 
 Dan I 'm seein' right off, dere 's somet'ing 
 wrong, 
 
 For she 's stannin' outside de door 
 Smilin' so sweetly upon de face, 
 
 Lookin' so nice an' gay 
 Anywan t'ink it 's purty sure case 
 
 She marry me yesterday. 
 374
 
 THE FOX HUNT 
 
 Can't wait a minute till supper 's t'roo 
 
 Before she commence to go 
 "Oh! Johnnie, dere 's somet'ing I mus* tole 
 you 
 
 Somet'ing you lak to know 
 To-morrow we 're goin' for drive aroun' 
 
 An' it won't be de heavy load, 
 Jus' me an' you, for to see dem houn' 
 
 T'row off on de Bord a Plouffe road. " 
 
 "Denise, if dat was de grande affaire 
 
 On w'at you call a la mode 
 Lookin' dem fox dog stannin' dere 
 
 T'row off on de Bord a Plouffe road, 
 You can count me out!" An' she start to cry- 
 
 " You know very well, " she say, 
 "I don't mean dat may I never die 
 
 But you 're a beeg fool to-day ! 
 
 "Johnnie, to-morrow you '11 come wit' me 
 
 Watchin' dem run de race, 
 Ketchin' de fox if you don't, you see 
 
 We 're bote on de beeg disgrace. 
 Dey 're all comin' out from de reever side, 
 
 An' over from Beaurepaire, 
 Seem' de folk from de city ride, 
 
 An' ev'rywan 's sure be dere. " 
 375
 
 THE FOX HUNT 
 
 All right an' to-morrow dere 's two new shoe, 
 
 So de leetle horse mak' de show, 
 Out wit' de buggy : de new wan too, 
 
 Only get her ten year ago 
 An' dere on de road, you should see de gang 
 
 Of folk from aroun' de place, 
 Billy Dufresne, an' ole Champagne, 
 
 Comin' to see de race, 
 
 Wit' plaintee of stranger I never see, 
 
 An' some of dem from Pointe Claire, 
 All of dem bringin' de familee, 
 
 Wenever dere 's room to spare. 
 Wonderful sight I- 'm sure you say 
 
 To see how Societee 
 (W'atever dat mean?) she got de way 
 
 Of foolin' de w'ole contree. 
 
 Den I 'm heetchin' de horse on de fence, for 
 fear 
 
 Somebody run away. 
 So man wit' de bugle he 's comin' near, 
 
 An' dis is de t'ing he say 
 44 You see any fox to-day, ma frien', 
 
 Runnin' aroun' at alh 
 You know any place he got hees den? 
 
 For we lak it to mak' de call. " 
 376
 
 THE FOX HUNT 
 
 An' me I tell heem, "You mus' be wrong, 
 
 An' surely don't want to kill 
 De leetle red fox, about two foot long, 
 
 Dat 's leevin' below de hill; 
 Jompin' de horse till he break hees knee, 
 
 Wile spotty dog mak' de row, 
 For a five-dollar fox? You can't fool me 
 
 I know w'at you 're wantin' now! 
 
 "You hear de story of ole Belair, 
 
 He 's seein' de silver fox 
 W'enever he 's feeshin de reever dere, 
 
 Sneakin' along de rocks. " 
 But ma wife get madder I never see, 
 
 An' say, "Wall! you mus' be green 
 Shut up right away," she 's tellin' me, 
 
 "It 's de leetle red fox he mean!" 
 
 So me I say not'ing, but watch de fun 
 
 An' spotty dog smell aroun' 
 Till dey start to yell, an' quick as a gun 
 
 Ev'rywan 's yellin', "FounM" 
 An' de way dey 're goin' across de fiel', 
 
 De lady in front, before, 
 Dunno, but I 'm willin' to bet good deal 
 
 Somebody mus' be sore ! 
 377
 
 THE FOX HUNT 
 
 Over de fence dey 're jompin' now, 
 
 Too busy for see de gate 
 Stannin' wide open, an' den dey plough 
 
 Along at a terrible rate; 
 All for de small red fox, dey say, 
 
 Only de leetle fox, 
 You 're buyin' for five dollar any day, 
 
 An' put heem on two-foot box. 
 
 I 'm foolish enough, but not lak dat 
 
 Never lak dat at all, 
 Sam' .as you see a crazy cat 
 
 Tryin' to climb de wall ; 
 So I say to ma wife, I 'm satisfy 
 
 On ev'ryt'ing I was see, 
 But happy an' glad, until I die, 
 
 I 'm not on Societee! 
 
 Lison' a day on de fall 's no joke, 
 
 Dat 's w'at I 'm tellin' you, 
 Jus' for de pleasure of see dem folk 
 
 Dress up on de howdy do; 
 So I 'm sorry you go to school, 
 
 Larnin' de readin' dere 
 Could do it mese'f an' play de fool, 
 
 If money I got to spare. 
 378 

 
 THE GREAT FIGHT 
 
 But potatoes a dollar a bag, 
 
 An' easy to sell de load, 
 Watchin' de houn' to see heem wag 
 
 Hees tail, on de Bord a PloufiEe road 
 Foolin' away w'en de market 's good 
 
 For seein' Societee 
 Chasin' de leetle fox t'roo de wood 
 
 Wit' crazy folk! no siree! 
 
 The Great Fight 
 
 AD luck to fight on New Year's night 
 
 An' wit' your neighbor man, 
 But w'en you know de reason w'y 
 
 1 hit heem hard on bote hees eye, 
 An' kick heem till he nearly die, 
 
 I t'ink you '11 understan'. 
 
 If you could see ma wife an' me 
 
 At home on Pigeon Bay, 
 
 You 'd say, ' ' How nice dey bote agree ! 
 
 Dey mus' be firse-class familee 
 
 An' go de sam' as wan, two, tree, " 
 
 I know dat 's w'at you say. 
 
 An' New Year's Day on Pigeon Bay, 
 You ought to see us den, 
 Wit parlor feex it up so fine, 
 Spruce beer an' w'isky, cake an' wine, 
 Cigar an' only very bes' kin' 
 For treatin' all our frien'. 
 379
 
 THE GREAT FIGHT 
 
 But on de las' New Year is pas' 
 De win' begin to rise,. 
 An' snow she dreef in such a way, 
 Wen mornin' come, ma wife she say, 
 " Dere won't be many folk to-day, 
 Or I '11 be moche surprise. ' 
 
 We never see, ma wife an' me, 
 So quiet New Year Day, 
 But very h^appy all de sam', ' 
 An' talk a lot about de tarn' 
 Before she come to me, ma femme, 
 Wile kettle sing away. 
 
 An' as we talk, de good ole clock 
 
 Go tick, tick on de wall, 
 
 De cat 's asleep upon de stair, 
 
 De house is quiet ev'ryw'ere, 
 
 An' Jean Bateese, hees image dere, 
 
 Is smilin' over all. 
 
 I buy dat leetle Jean Bateese 
 On Market Bonsecour, 
 Two dollar an' your money down, 
 He 's fines' wan for miles aroun', 
 Can hardly beat heem on de town, 
 An' so I love heem sure. 
 .180
 
 THE GREAT FIGHT 
 
 Wat 's dat I hear, but never fear, 
 Dere 's no wan on de door? 
 Yass, sure enough, Joe Beliveau, 
 An' nearly smoder wit' de snow. 
 Entrez! We 're glad to see you, Joe 
 Wy don't you come before? 
 
 "Bonjour, Ma-dame Camille, your femme, 
 
 She 's younger .ev'ry day; 
 
 I hope de New Year will be bright, 
 
 I hope de baby feel all right, 
 
 Don't wake you up too moche at night?" 
 
 An' dat 's w'at Joe he say. 
 
 He 's so polite it 's only right 
 
 He wish heem ev'ry t'ing 
 
 Dat 's good upon de worl' at all, 
 
 An' geev heem two tree w'at you call 
 
 Dat fancy Yankee stuff, "high ball," 
 
 An' den he start to sing. 
 
 You dunno Joe? Wall, you mus' know 
 
 He 's purty full of life, 
 
 An' w'en he 's goin" dat way Joe, 
 
 Mus' tak' heem leetle easy, so 
 
 I don't say not'ing w'en he go 
 
 For start an' kiss ma wife.
 
 THE GREAT FIGHT 
 
 An' up an' down dey dance aroun' 
 
 An' laugh an' mak' de fun. 
 
 For spree lak' dat, on New Year's Day, 
 
 Is not'ing moche on Pigeon Bay, 
 
 Beside he 's frien' of me alway, 
 
 An' so dere 's no harm done. 
 
 I lak' to know jus' how it go, 
 Dat w'en we feel secure 
 Not'ing at all is goin' wrong, 
 An' life is lak' a pleasan' song, 
 De devil 's boun' to come along, 
 An' mak' some trouble sure. 
 
 For bimeby, Joe cock hees eye, 
 An' see poor Jean Bateese, 
 An' say right off, "If I can't show 
 A better wan at home, I '11 go 
 An' drown me on de crick below, " 
 So dat 's de en' of peace. 
 
 Dis very day along de Bay, 
 Dey tell about de fight. 
 Never was seen such bloody war, 
 On Pigeon Bay before, ba gor' ! 
 An' easy understan' it, for 
 De battle las' all night. 
 382
 
 THE GREAT FIGHT 
 
 So hard we go, dat me an' Joe 
 
 Get tire soon, an' den 
 
 We bote sit down an' tak' de res' 
 
 For half a secon', mebbe less, 
 
 An' w'en de win' come on our ches', 
 
 We start her up again. 
 
 De house is shake lak' beeg eart'quake, 
 De way we jump aroun', 
 An' people living far away, 
 Dey lissen hard an' den dey say, 
 "It 's all up, sure, wit' Pigeon Bay 
 She 's tumble to de groun'." 
 
 'T was bad enough, de way we puff, 
 But w'en de stovepipe fall, 
 An' all de smoke begin to tear 
 Right t'roo de house, an' choke de air, 
 An' me an' Joe can't see no w'ere, 
 Dat 's very wors' t'ing of all. 
 
 It 's not a joke, de maudit smoke 
 Dat 's w'at I 'm tellin' you 
 But sure enough it stop de fight; 
 It 's easy killin' Joe all right, 
 But w'at about de wife all right 
 An' mebbe baby too? 
 383
 
 VICTORIA SQUARE AN IDYLL 
 
 A man dat 's brave, should always save 
 
 De woman she 's hees wife ; 
 
 Dat 's firse t'ing he mus' do an' w'en 
 
 I open de door, Joe 's runnin' den, 
 
 As hard as he can lick, ma frien', 
 
 So all han's save hees life. 
 
 An' since de fight, dey 're all polite, 
 
 Dey smile an' touch de hat, 
 
 An' say, "I hope you 're feelin' purty gay, 
 
 An' no more fight on Pigeon Bay, 
 
 Or else you '11 kill a man some day. " 
 
 So w'at you t'ink of dat? 
 
 Victoria Square An Idyll 
 
 ! we are a band of bummers, and for 
 many joyous summers 
 On the Square that 's called "Victoria" we 
 
 have sported on the green. 
 ;< Evan's Corner" erstwhile knew us, but the 
 
 blooming coppers flew us, 
 So we sought the kind protection of Her 
 Majesty the Queen. 
 
 Her Majesty the Queen! 
 
 Lord bless the big bronze Statue of Her 
 Majesty the Queen. 
 384
 
 VICTORIA SQUARE AN IDYLL 
 
 Ah, it 's there we love to linger till what time 
 
 the rosy ringer 
 Of Aurora paints the heavens with golden 
 
 rays serene, 
 And altho' our lives are "checkered," yet 
 
 we Ve always held the record 
 For strong unchanging fealty to the Statue 
 
 of the Queen. 
 
 To the .Statue of the Queen ! 
 Oh! we 're the Guard of Honor to the Statue 
 
 of the Queen. 
 
 Sitting round the sun-kissed fountain, sit- 
 uate between the mountain 
 
 And the river gently flowing, oh! 't is a 
 pleasant scene. 
 
 For alternately the breezes from both 
 sources come to please us, 
 
 As we linger round the Statue of Her Majesty 
 the Queen. 
 
 The Statue of the Queen! 
 
 As we worship round the Statue of Her 
 Majesty the Queen. 
 
 Like veterans in the trenches, we occupy 
 
 the benches, 
 Where we watch the busy sparrows as they 
 
 nutter round their nests ; 
 as 385
 
 VICTORIA SQUARE AN IDYLL 
 
 And the new wild-eyed bacteria we have 
 introduced, would weary a 
 
 Wyatt Johnston, for he 'd find them unre- 
 sponsive to his tests. 
 
 Unresponsive to his tests! 
 
 Oh! we think we see them smiling 'neath his 
 pathologic tests. 
 
 We are born of many nations, we have rules 
 and regulations 
 
 Which if any member fracture, we arise in all 
 our wrath 
 
 Then you ought to hear him holler, as we 
 seize him by the collar, 
 
 For well he knows his punishment necessi- 
 tates a bath. 
 
 Necessitates a bath! 
 
 Oh! the agony inflicted by the order of the 
 bath! 
 
 Oh! the scientific lacin' we applied to Billy 
 
 Mason, 
 And submerged him m the basin while the 
 
 coppers were away, 
 And before the coppers found him, we had 
 
 very nearly drowned him 
 386
 
 MARRIAGE 
 
 'Cause he wore a laundered night-shirt on 
 
 Victoria's Natal Day! 
 
 On Victoria's Natal Day ! 
 Tho' he said he only donned it just in honor 
 
 of the day. 
 
 For there 's one thing we take pride in 't is 
 the shadow we abide in 
 
 Of the glorious law of freedom, unchange- 
 abilitee ; 
 
 Then let us range unfettered, tho' we may 
 be unlettered, 
 
 For we furnish picturesqueness and true 
 simplicitee. 
 
 And true simplicitee, 
 
 As we camp around the Statue of Her Glor- 
 ious Majestee! 
 
 Marriage 
 
 'IPHERE 's a girl at Calabogie an' another 
 
 at the Soo, 
 An' with sparkin' and colloguin', I Ve been 
 
 foolish with the two; 
 But I 'm foolish now for ever, an' worst of 
 
 all it come 
 
 From a girl I thought was dacint when I 
 used to live at home. 
 387
 
 MARRIAGE 
 
 She could dance to bate the fairies that my 
 
 gran'mother 'ud tell 
 Over there in Ireland ha'nted what they 
 
 call the "holy well." 
 She was purty as a wood-duck whin you 
 
 see him on a tree, 
 But so proud and independint that she'd 
 
 never look at me. 
 
 So it made me feel onaisy, an' I drifted 
 
 far away, 
 An' I wint to Calabogie a workin' by the 
 
 day. 
 Of any kind of money the place is mighty 
 
 bare, 
 i^'ut a girl that took my fancy happened to 
 
 be livin' there. 
 
 Still the other down the river how I 'd 
 
 dream of her at night! 
 Spite of all the times I 'd wish her gone 
 
 completely out o' sight, 
 For she used to spile the comfort with the 
 
 new wan that I had, 
 An* a little consolation sure I needed purty 
 
 bad. 
 
 388
 
 MARRIAGE 
 
 Thin the times begin to slacken, an' I 'm get- 
 tin' hard up too, 
 
 So good-bye to Calabogie, an' I started for 
 the Soo; 
 
 An' the girl I left behind me? Lord knows, 
 it 's hard to tell, 
 
 But another came between, an' she liked me 
 just as well. 
 
 Whin you speak of bad luck comin', mine 
 
 is worse nor any man's 
 Think of all the good intintions an' with two 
 
 o' thim on my han's ! 
 One of thim at Calabogie, an' the other at 
 
 the Soo, 
 An' engaged to both, it 's hard to say exactly 
 
 what to do. 
 
 The Cobalt-silver fever was the worst that 's 
 
 ever known, 
 An' it came in purty handy in cases like my 
 
 own; 
 Besides of all the chances, 't was the one I 
 
 fancied best, 
 So I had to go prospectin' jus' the same 
 
 as all the rest. 
 
 389
 
 MARRIAGE 
 
 An' the girls, of course they suffered, for I 
 
 had n't time to write, 
 Divil a thing but pick an' shovel, an' workin' 
 
 day an' night, 
 Till a dacint wild-cat claim I sold for fifteen 
 
 thousand too 
 Now I sez, "It's all a toss-up Calabogie or 
 
 theSoo?" 
 
 Calabogie won it aisy, but, the next thing 
 
 that I heard, 
 She got tired o' waitin' for me whin she never 
 
 got a word ; 
 So she married John Mahaffy "little John" 
 
 that runs the farm, 
 An' the only thing she wished me was, 
 
 "I'd never come to harm." 
 
 An' the Soo girl done the same thing took 
 
 a brakesman on a freight; 
 An' in Winnipeg they 're livin', so I come a 
 
 trifle late; 
 But I 'm not afeared to visit Calabogie or the 
 
 Soo, 
 For I Ve tried to to do my duty, an' sure 
 
 ayther wan 'ud do! 
 390
 
 MARRIAGE 
 
 Well, I stood it for a little an' thin home agin 
 
 I wint, 
 For with fifteen thousand dollars, any man 
 
 should be contint, 
 An' the girl that used to give me many a 
 
 beautiful heartache, 
 Sure I was n't back a fortnight, till I seen 
 
 her at a wake. 
 
 Quiet now! No palpitation! Watch yerself, 
 
 my laddy buck, 
 Take your time don't get excited maybe 
 
 you '11 have better luck. 
 Then she said her darlin' mother missed me 
 
 for a year or more, 
 'T would have saved some trouble if her 
 
 mother spoke like that before. 
 
 "Wan thing leadeth to another" sez the 
 
 poet dunno who, 
 But we purty soon got married, so the 
 
 prophecy come true; 
 An' whinever all my fortune's settled on 
 
 the daughter sure, 
 Some wan seen the mother dance a sailor's 
 
 hornpipe on the floor.
 
 WE 'RE IRISH YET 
 
 It 's no wonder I 'm distracted whin the two 
 
 o' thim '11 say, 
 "Oh! Patrick, mind the baby, sure you got 
 
 out yesterday" 
 Lord forgive me, I 'd be happy if the ould 
 
 wan only died, 
 But she 's healthy as a tom-cat an' she 
 
 could n't if she tried. 
 
 I suppose I 'm doin' pinance for the sins of 
 
 airly youth, 
 Tho' I blame it on the women they betrayed 
 
 me rthat 's the truth. 
 But for all I know about thim, 't would have 
 
 been the same thing too, 
 With the girl from Calabogie, or the other 
 
 at the Soo. 
 
 We 're Irish Yet 
 
 means this gathering to-night? 
 What spirit moves along 
 The crowded hall, and, touching light 
 
 Each heart among the throng, 
 Awakes, as tho' a trumpet blast 
 
 Had sounded in their ears, 
 The recollections of the past, 
 The memories of the years? 
 392
 
 WE 'RE IRISH YET 
 
 Oh ! 't is the spirit of the West, 
 
 The spirit of the Celt, 
 The breed that spurned the alien breast, 
 
 And every wrong has felt 
 And still, tho' far from fatherland, 
 
 We never can forget 
 To tell ourselves, with heart and hand, 
 
 We 're Irish yet ! We 're Irish yet ! 
 
 And they outside the clan of Conn 
 Would understand, but fail, 
 
 The mystic music played upon 
 The heart-strings of the Gael 
 
 His ear, and his alone, can tell 
 The soul that lies within, 
 
 The music which he knows so well, 
 
 \ The voice of Kith and Kin. 
 
 He hears the tales of old, old days 
 
 Of battle fierce by ford and hill, 
 Of ancient Senachie's martial lays, 
 
 And race unconquered still. 
 It challenges with mother's pride 
 
 And dares him to forget 
 That, tho' he cross the ocean wide, 
 
 He 's Irish yet! He 's Irish yet! 
 393
 
 CHIBOUGAMOU 
 
 His eye may never see the blue 
 
 Of Ireland's April sky, 
 His ear may never listen to 
 
 The song of lark on high, 
 But deep within his Irish heart 
 
 Are cloisters, dark and dim, 
 No human hand can wrench apart, 
 
 And the lark still sings for him. 
 
 We Ve bowed beneath the chastening rod, 
 
 We Ve had our griefs and pains, 
 But with them all, we still thank God, 
 
 The Blood is in our veins, 
 The ancient blood that knows no fear, 
 
 The Stamp is on us set, 
 And so, however foes may jeer, 
 
 We 're Irish yet! We 're Irish yet. 
 
 Chibougamou 
 
 P\ID you ever see an air-hole on the ice 
 
 Wit' de smoke a risin' roun' about it 
 
 dere? 
 De reever should be happy w'ere it 's feelin* 
 
 warm an' nice, 
 But she t'ink she ought to get a leetle air. 
 
 An' she want to be a lookin' on de sky, 
 
 So of course de cole win' hit her on de 
 nose 
 
 394
 
 CHIBOUGAMOU 
 
 *'I '11 come up again," she say, "on de 
 
 spring tarn, bimeby, 
 But I 'm better now below, " and off she goes. 
 
 Dat 's de way I feel mese'f on de farm a 
 
 year ago, 
 Were ev'ryt'ing should be a pleasan' 
 
 dream; 
 Lak de foolish reever dere, I 'm not satisfy 
 
 below, 
 So I got to let me off a leetle steam. 
 
 Den a man he come along an' he say to me, 
 
 ' ' Look here 
 Don't you know that place dey call 
 
 Chibougamou 
 
 Were de diamon' lie aroun' like de mush- 
 room on de groun', 
 An' dey 're findin' all de gole an' silver too? 
 
 "Wat's de use of stayin' here den? Didn't 
 
 Johnnie Drutusac 
 
 Lif de mor'gage off hees place an' buy a cow? 
 Only gone a leetle w'ile hardly miss heem 
 
 till he 's back; 
 
 He 's easy workin' man too, an' look at 
 Johnnie now? 
 
 395
 
 CHIBOUGAMOU 
 
 "Well enough, ma frien', you know I can 
 
 never tell de lie 
 Wen I say^ de gole is eomin' t'ousan* 
 
 ounces on de ton, 
 An' de solid silver mak' you feel funny on de 
 
 eye, 
 
 Lak de snow-blin' on de winter w'en. "it 
 shine de morning -sun. 
 
 "I s'pose you won't believe, but you know 
 
 dat gravel walk . 
 Ma fader got it facin' on hees house at 
 
 St. Bidou ' 
 But w'at 's de use of spikin', w'at 's de use 
 
 of talk? 
 
 Dat 's de way you see de diamon' on dat 
 place Chibougamou. 
 
 "Course you got to go an' fin' dem quickly, 
 
 or de stranger man 
 Come along wit' plaintee barrel an* 
 
 you 're never knowin' w'en 
 Couple o' Yankee off the State, he was buyin* 
 
 all de Ian' ; 
 
 Affer dat an' w'ere 's your gole an' silver 
 goin' den? 
 
 396
 
 CHIBOUGAMOU 
 
 "So, Bateese, get up an' hurry, sell de farm, 
 
 mon chef ami, 
 Leave de girl an' bring provision, pork an' 
 
 bean, potato too, 
 Leetle - w'isky, an' I '11 put heem on de safe 
 
 place under me' 
 
 Wile I sit an' steer you off to dat place 
 Chibougamou. " 
 
 Oh! de day an' night we 're passin', me dat 
 
 never was before 
 On de bush, except w'en heifer go away 
 
 an' den got los'; 
 Oh! de pullin' an' de haulin', till I 'm feelin' 
 
 purty sore, 
 
 But of all de troub an' worry, de skeeter, 
 he 's de boss. 
 
 Beeg? lak de leetle two-mont* robin. Sing? 
 
 lak a sawmill on de spring. 
 Put de blanket roun' your body an' den 
 
 he bite you troo. 
 Me, I never tak' hees measure, but I t'ink 
 
 across de wing 
 
 He 's t'ree inch sure dem skeeter, on dat 
 place Chibougamou. 
 
 397 
 

 
 CHIBOUGAMOU 
 
 De man he 's goin' wit' me, never paddle, 
 
 never haul, 
 Jus' smoke an' watch an' lissen for dat 
 
 ole Chibougamou ; 
 I s'pose he can't be bodder doin' any work 
 
 at all, 
 
 For de feller tak' you dere jus' have 
 not'ing else to do. 
 
 T'ousan' mile we mak' de travel t'ousan* 
 
 mile an' mebbe more, 
 An' I ,do de foolish prayin' lak' I never 
 
 pray at home, 
 'Cos I want a chance to get it, only let me 
 
 see de shore 
 
 Of Chibougamou a little w'ile before de 
 winter come. 
 
 No use prayin', no use climbin' on de beeg 
 
 tree ev'ry day, 
 Lookin' hard to see de diamon', an' de 
 
 silver, an' de gole 
 I can't see dem, an' de summer she begin to 
 
 go away, 
 
 An' de day is gettin' shorter, an' de night 
 is gettin' cole. 
 
 398
 
 CHIBOUGAMOU 
 
 So I kick an' raise de row den, an' I tole 
 
 ma frien' lookout 
 Purty quick de winter's comin' an' 
 
 we '11 hurry up an' go; 
 Never min' de gole an' silver diarnon' too 
 
 we '11 go widout, 
 
 Or de only wan we 're seem', is de diamon' 
 on de snow. 
 
 Mebbe good place w'en you get dere, w'at 
 
 you call Chibougamou, 
 But if we never fin' it, w'at 's de use 
 
 dat place to me? 
 Tak' de paddle, for we 're goin', an' mese'f 
 
 I '11 steer canoe, 
 
 For I 'm always firse-class pilot on de road 
 to St. Elie. 
 
 Oh! to see me on de mornin', an' de way I 
 
 mak' heem sweat, 
 You can see de water droppin' all aroun' 
 
 hees neck an' face; 
 "Now, Chibougamou," I tell heem, "hurry 
 
 up, an' mebbe yet 
 
 You '11 have chance again to try it w'en you 
 leave me on ma place." 
 399
 
 CHIBOUGAMOU 
 
 So we have a beeg procession, w'en we pass 
 
 on St. Elie, 
 All de parish comin' lookin' for de gole an* 
 
 silver too, 
 But Louise, she cry so moche dere, jus' becos 
 
 she 's seein' me, 
 
 She forget about de diamon' on dat ole 
 Chibougamou. 
 
 After all is gone an' finistf, an' you mak' a fool 
 
 you' se'f, 
 An' de worl' is go agen you, w'at 's de 
 
 medicine is cure 
 Lak de love of hones' woman w'en she geev 
 
 it all herse'f? 
 
 So Louise an' me is happy, no matter if 
 we 're poor. 
 
 So de diamon' may be plaintee, lak de gravel 
 
 walk you see 
 W'en you 're comin' near de house of ole 
 
 Telesphore Beaulieu, 
 But me, I got a diamon' on ma home on 
 
 St. Elie 
 
 Can beat de pil is lyin' on dat place 
 Chibougamou. 
 
 400
 
 THE FIRST ROBIN 
 
 The First Robin 
 
 ! it's bad to be unlucky in ev'ryt'ing 
 you do, 
 An' worse if you can't help it, 'cos I 'm 
 
 de torteen chile, 
 An* w'en you play for number wan, an* den 
 
 you 're number two, 
 
 I wonder w'ere 's de feller he don't feel a 
 lee tie rile? 
 
 Few mont' ago it happen dat I 'm goin' walk 
 
 aroun', 
 Gettin' ready for de ploughin' is comin' on 
 
 de spring, 
 An' soon I wait an' listen, for I t'ink I hear 
 
 de song 
 
 Of de firse, de early robin, as he jus' 
 begin to sing. 
 
 It was very, very lucky w'en de firse wan 
 
 come along 
 An' you see upon your farm dere is de 
 
 place de robin stop, 
 
 Settle down to feex hees fedder, an' com- 
 mence to mak' hees song 
 For o' course it 's always makin' beeg dif- 
 ference wit' de crop. 
 26 401
 
 THE FIRST ROBIN 
 
 So I sneak aroun' so quiet, t'roo de orchard on 
 
 de hill, 
 T'roo de fence, along de crik too, w'ere 
 
 de snow is lyin' yet 
 Ev'ry kin' o' luck again me as I travel dere 
 
 until 
 
 Ba de tarn de job is finish, golly, I was 
 feelin' wet! 
 
 Wat 's de matter wit' dat robin, dat he 
 
 is n't comin' here, 
 'Stead o' goin' half an acre jus' to tak* 
 
 de luck away? 
 No Siree! I don't forgive heem, if he leev" 
 
 a honder year, 
 
 For dere 's hees singin', singin' on de farm 
 of Joe Lahaie. 
 
 Jce hese'f is sittin' dere too, lookin' happy 
 
 on hees face, 
 For de way dat bird is yellin', is enough to 
 
 scare de dead; 
 An' he ax me, "Wat you doin' sneakin* 
 
 all aroun' ma place? 
 
 Don't you know I own dat robin he was 
 singin' overhead? 
 402
 
 THE FIRST ROBIN 
 
 "Mebbe he was work for not'ing, my leetle 
 
 boy Louis, 
 Wen .he 's startin' out dis mornin' for 
 
 milkin' on de cow, 
 An' he fin' dat robin flyin' purty near your 
 
 apple-tree, 
 
 An' he shoo heem up, an' bring heem on 
 de place you see heem now. 
 
 "Didn't get heem off too early, for anoder 
 
 minute more 
 An' I bet dat robin 's singin' among your 
 
 apple-tree ; 
 But de boy 's too smart to let heem, an' he 
 
 scare heem here before 
 He begin to mak' de music so dat bird 
 belong to me. 
 
 "Talk about your lucky season! Wait an' see 
 
 de wan I got; 
 Should n't wonder if I 'm needin' anoder 
 
 wagon sure. 
 How I wish de fall would hurry, for de crop 
 
 your uncle get, 
 
 It will mak' dem all go crazy on de market 
 Bonsecours. 
 
 403
 
 THE FIRST ROBIN 
 
 "Me I lissen many robin, an* de fines' of 
 
 de crowd 
 Is de wan dat 's sittin' up dere, workin' 
 
 w'at you call de charm; 
 Dat 's de robin for ma money, he can holler 
 
 out so loud, 
 
 But o' course de res' was alway on some 
 oder feller's farm. 
 
 "Only sorry ma ole woman isn't comin' here 
 
 to see, 
 For she can't help feelin' happy w'en de 
 
 firse bird of de spring 
 Mak' hees choice upon our tree dere, jus' so 
 
 natural an' free, 
 
 Non! She wouldn't tak' a dollar ev'ry 
 tarn dat feller sing." 
 
 An' he sit an' smoke away dere, Joe Lahaie, 
 
 an' talk hees fill, 
 He 's all right, an' he don't bodder how de 
 
 res' de parish go; 
 Never hear a man so foolish, mak' me feelin' 
 
 mad until 
 
 I could kill dat maudit robin, an' Jo-seph 
 Lahaie also. 
 
 404
 
 THE FIRST ROBIN 
 
 An' den bimeby de summer come along, but 
 
 w'at 's de use 
 Call it summer, for de fine day is w'at we 
 
 seldom get. 
 So I tak' it purty easy, for de man mus' be a 
 
 goose 
 
 If he don't kip nice an' quiet, w'en de 
 wedder she 's so wet. 
 
 But Joe Lahaie, dat feller, he was t'ink so 
 
 moche, ba gum, 
 About hees poor ole robin, he forget about 
 
 de rain ; 
 Ev'ry day you see heem workin', an' w'en 
 
 de fall is come 
 
 He got de fines' crop upon St. Polycarpe de 
 plaine. 
 
 An' me Wall! I could bet you, w'en de 
 
 springtam' melt de snow, 
 I '11 never go to bed unless I 'm sleepin' 
 
 on ma pants; 
 Den w'en I hear de robin, hoopla! off she 
 
 go, 
 
 An' he '11 never lef ma garden, so I '11 
 have anoder chance! 
 405
 
 BLOOM A SONG OF COBALT 
 
 Bloom A Song of Cobalt 
 
 ! the blooming cheek of beauty, tho' 
 it 's full of many a peril, 
 Where 's the miner does n't love it? for he 
 
 thinks he knows the girl, 
 While the bloomer! Oh! the bloomer! of 
 
 emancipated She, 
 
 May it bloom and promptly wither every 
 seventh century. 
 
 Oh! the early bloom of blossom on the apple 
 
 tree in June, 
 Is there mortal having seen it, can forget 
 
 the picture soon? 
 And the wine of red October where Falernian 
 
 juices flow, 
 I have sipped the blooming beaker (in the 
 
 ages long ago!). 
 
 Oh! the bloom along the hill-side, shining 
 
 bright among the trees, 
 When the banners of the autumn are flung 
 
 out to every breeze, 
 How it blazes how it sparkles, and then 
 
 shivers at a breath: 
 What is it when all is spoken but the awful 
 
 bloom of death! 
 
 406
 
 THE BOY FROM CALABOGIE 
 
 Oh! I 've watched the rose's petals, and be- 
 held the summer sun 
 
 Dipping down behind Olympus, when the 
 great day's work was done; 
 
 But to-day I 'm weary, weary , and the 
 bloom I long to see, 
 
 Is the bloom upon the cobalt that 's the 
 only bloom for me. 
 
 The Boy from Calabogie 
 
 11JE was twenty-one in April forty inches 
 
 round the chest, 
 A soupler or a better boy we '11 never see 
 
 again 
 And the way we cheered the lad when he 
 
 started for the West! 
 
 The town was like a holiday, the time he 
 took the train 
 
 At Calabogie. 
 
 "Are ye ever comin' back with the fortune,. 
 
 little Dan, 
 From the place they say the money 's like 
 
 the leaves upon the tree?" 
 "If the minin' boss '11 let me, as sure as I 'm 
 
 a man, 
 
 The mother's Christmas turkey won't have 
 to wait for me 
 
 At Calabogie." 
 407
 
 THE BOY FROM CALABOGIE 
 
 And the letters he was writin' to his mother 
 
 from the West, 
 Sure ev'rybody read them, and who could 
 
 see the harm? 
 Tellin' how he 'd keep the promise to come 
 
 home and have a rest; 
 And the money that was in them was 
 enough to buy a farm 
 At Calabogie. 
 
 What is it that makes the fever leave the 
 
 weak and kill the strong, 
 And who 'd 'a' thought our Dannie would 
 
 ever come to this? 
 When the Sister had to raise him, and say, 
 
 "It won't be long 
 
 Till it 's home, my lad, you 're goin' to 
 receive a mother's kiss 
 At Calabogie. " 
 
 So we met our little Dannie, Christmas morn- 
 ing at the train, 
 And we lifted up the long-box without a 
 
 word to say; 
 Och ! such a boy as Dannie we '11 never see 
 
 again 
 
 God forgive us ! 't was n't much of a Merry 
 Christmas Day 
 
 At Calabogie! 
 408
 
 THE CALCITE VEIN A TALE OF COBALT 
 
 The Calcite Vein A Tale of Cobalt 
 
 T USED to be leevin' on Bonami, 
 
 Fines' place on de lake, you bet ! 
 An' dough I go off only wance sapree! 
 
 I t'ink I will leev' dere yet ; 
 Wit' tree growin' down to de water side, 
 
 Were leetle bird dance an' sing 
 Only come an' see you don't shout wit' me 
 
 Hooraw for Temiskaming ! 
 
 But silver "boom" an de cobalt bloom, 
 
 Play de devil wit' Bonami, 
 So off on de wood, we all mus' go, 
 
 Leavin' de familee 
 Shovel an' pick, hammer an' drill, 
 
 We carry dem ev'ryw'ere, 
 For workin' away all night an' day 
 
 Till it 's tarn to be millionaire. 
 
 So it ain't very long w'en I mak' de strike, 
 
 W'at dey 're callin' de vein cal-cite, 
 Quarter an inch, jus' a leetle "pinch," 
 
 But she is come all right 
 An' widen out beeg: mebbe wan sixteen, 
 
 An' now we have got her sure; 
 So we jump on our hat w'en she go like dat, 
 
 Me an' Bateese Couture ! 
 409
 
 THE CALCITE VEIN A TALE OF COBALT 
 
 Early in de spring we see dat vein, 
 
 Wen de pat-ridge begin to drum, 
 De leaf on de bush start in wit' a rush, 
 
 An' de skeeter commence to come 
 Very nice time on de wood for sure, 
 
 If you want to be goin' die, 
 iSkeeter at night till it 's come daylight, 
 
 An' aff er dat, small black fly ! 
 
 'Couple o' gang like dat, ma frien', 
 
 'Specially near de swamp, 
 .An' hongry too, dey can bite an' chew, 
 
 An' keep you upon de jomp ; 
 ^But never you min', only work away 
 
 So long as de vein is dere, 
 .For a t'ing so small don't count at all, 
 
 If you want to be millionaire ! 
 
 "An' dis is de price," Bateese he say, 
 
 "T'ree million or not'ing at all." 
 .An' I say, "You 're crazy, it 's five you mean, 
 
 An' more if you wait till fall. 
 An 1 s'pose de silver was come along, 
 
 An' cobalt she bloom an' bloom, 
 "We look very sick if we sole too quick, 
 
 An' ev'ry t'ing 's on de boom." 
 410
 
 THE CALCITE VEIN A TALE OF COBALT 
 
 De cash we refuse w'en dey hear de news 
 
 Wen I t'ink of dat cash to-day, 
 I feel like a mouse on a great beeg house, 
 
 W'en de familee move away: 
 One million, two million, no use to us, 
 
 Me an' Bateese Couture, 
 So we work away ev'ry night an' day, 
 
 De sam' we was alway poor. 
 
 An' den one morning a stranger man, 
 
 A man wit' hees hair all w'ite, 
 Look very wise, an' he 's moche surprise 
 
 W'en he 's seein' dat vein cal-cite. 
 An' he say, "Ma frien', for de good advice 
 
 I hope you '11 mak' some room 
 From sweetheart girl to de wide, wide worl', 
 
 Ketch ev'ryt'ing on de bloom. 
 
 "Keep your eye on de vein, for dere 's many 
 a slip 
 
 Till you drink of de silver cup, 
 An' if you 're not goin' to go 'way down, 
 
 You 're goin' to go 'way, 'way up." 
 
 "Now w'at does he mean?" Bateese he say, 
 
 Affer de ole man lef, 
 " Mebbe want to buy, but he t'ink it 's high, 
 
 So we '11 finish de job ourse'f. 
 411
 
 THE CALCITE VEIN A TALE OF COBALT 
 
 Purty quick too." An' den hooraw! 
 
 We form it de compagnie, 
 An' to give dem a sight on de vein cal-cite, 
 
 We work it on Bonami. 
 
 Can't count de money dat 's comin' in, 
 
 Same as de lotterie ; 
 Ev'ry wan try, till bimeby 
 
 Dere 's not many dollar on Bonami; 
 An' de gang we put onto de job right off, 
 
 Nearly twenty beside de cook, 
 Hammer an' drill till dey 're nearly kill, 
 
 An' feller to watch de book. 
 
 Too many man, an' I see it now, 
 
 An' I 'm sorry, 'cos I 'm de boss; 
 For walkin' aroun' all over de groun', 
 
 Dat 's reason de vein get los', 
 Easy enough wit' de lantern too, 
 
 Seein' dat vein las' night, 
 But to-day I 'm out lookin' all about, 
 
 An' w'ere is dat vein cal-cite? 
 
 Very curious t'ing, but you can't blame me, 
 
 For I try very hard, I 'm sure, 
 Helpin' dem all till de vein is gone, 
 
 Me an' Bateese Couture; 
 412
 
 PIERRE LEBLANC 
 
 So of course I wonder de way she go, 
 
 An' twenty cent too a share, 
 An' I can't understan' dat stranger man 
 
 Wat he mean w'en he 's sayin' dere: 
 
 "Keep your eye on de vein, for there 's many 
 a slip 
 
 Till you drink of de silver cup, 
 An' if you 're not goin' to go way down 
 
 You 're goin' to go 'way, 'way up." 
 
 Pierre Leblanc 
 
 (Dedicated to the Hon. Peter White) 
 
 T^V'RY State upon de Union, w'en dey 
 write her up to-day, 
 
 Have so many kin' of story not many under- 
 stan' ; 
 
 But if you lissen me you can very quickly 
 see 
 
 How it 's easy t'ing remember de State of 
 Michigan. 
 
 An' me I know it 's true, 'cos ma fader tole 
 me so, 
 
 How dat voyageur dey 're callin' Pre Mar- 
 quette 
 
 Come a-sailin' hees canoe, wit' de Injun from 
 de Soo, 
 
 On de year so long ago dat I forget. 
 413
 
 PIERRE LEBLANC 
 
 But wan t'ing I can say, w'en Marquette is 
 reach de shore 
 
 Were w'at you call hees statue is stickin' 
 up to-day, 
 
 Dere 's a leetle French boy dere say, "Com- 
 ment ca va, mon pere, 
 
 You been so long a-comin' I hope you 're 
 goin' to stay?" 
 
 An' he show heem safes' place w'ere he put 
 hees birch canoe, 
 
 An' de way he talk an' boss de Injun man 
 
 Wall, it 's very easy see dat between you' se'f 
 an' me, 
 
 Dat leetle feller's born to comman'. 
 
 An' Marquette he 's moche surprise at de 
 
 smart boy he has got, 
 W'ere he come from, w'at 's hees name, an' 
 
 ev'ryt'ing; 
 But de boy he go ahead feexin' up de camp 
 
 an' bed, 
 
 For he alway treat hees frien' jus' lak de King. 
 Marquette he den fin' out w'at de leetle 
 
 feller know, 
 An' w'at he never see, an' all de Grosse 
 
 Point law; 
 How it 's mixit up so moche ev'rybody 's 
 
 scare to touch, 
 
 An' de nam' he call hese'f is Pierre Leblanc. 
 414
 
 PIERRE LEBLANC 
 
 Wall, Marquette he 's not a fool, so he 's sayin* 
 
 "Au revoir, " 
 
 For leetle Pierre Leblanc 's too wide awake- 
 No chance discoveree, so far as he can see, 
 Less he fin' some newer place upon de lak'. 
 So dere he stay upon de shore, de leetle 
 
 Pierre, 
 
 An' buil' de fines' log house he can get; 
 Purty soon he have a town on de place he 
 
 settle down, 
 An' call it for hees frien' M'sieu Marquette. 
 
 But de folk he 's bringin' dere fin' it hard 
 
 w'en winter come 
 
 An' ev'ry place is pilin' wit' de snow; 
 Den who is volunteer bring de letter 'way 
 
 up here, 
 
 From de contree lyin' off dere down below? 
 Was it feller six foot high is on de job, 
 Carry letter all de way from Canadaw, 
 Wit' hees fourteen-dog-traineau, bangin' t'roo 
 
 de ice an' snow? 
 No siree ! It 's only leetle Pierre Leblanc. 
 
 But de way he treat hees dog dey say is very 
 
 bad, 
 
 Many folk is talkin' all about it yet. 
 415
 
 PIERRE LEBLANC 
 
 So of course dey 're comin' back lak de 
 
 racer on de track, 
 For hees dog, dey don't get not'ing till 
 
 dey 're passin' on Marquette. 
 Wall, I s'pose he 's very poor, Pierre Leblanc, 
 An' de pay he 's gettin' for it 's purty small, 
 An' he got to eat hese'f, or mebbe he was lef, 
 So we never get our letter affer all. 
 
 An* den he start to grow, an' de way he work, 
 
 dey say, 
 
 For de folk on ole Marquette an' all aroun', 
 Mak' heem very populaire on de contree 
 
 ev'ryw'ere, 
 
 Till he t'ink he was de beeges' man in town. 
 Den hees head begin to swell, 'cos ma fader 
 
 tole me so, 
 An' firse t'ing he was puttin* on de beeges' 
 
 style he can; 
 But he ought to be ashame for de way he 
 
 change hees name 
 To Peter White, an' try to pass for only 
 
 Yankee man. 
 
 Mebbe leetle Injun too, can't say for dat 
 
 mese'f, 
 
 For he alway spik sauvage de sam' as Ojibway 
 416
 
 PIERRE LEBLANC 
 
 An' w'en he want to swear it 's enough to 
 
 raise de hair 
 To hear heem sayin' "Wabigoon ah goozah 
 
 goozah gay. " 
 An' lak' de Injun, too, very hard to tell hees 
 
 age, 
 For he mus' be over honder, dough he 's 
 
 lookin' forty year; 
 An' he 's alway on de rush, you can't lose 
 
 heem on de bush, 
 An' hees eye is lak de eagle, strong an' clear. 
 
 An 1 he 's leevin' wit' us now, Pierre Leblanc 
 
 dit Peter White, 
 But we won't say not'ing more about hees 
 
 name; 
 Let heem try it if he can, makin' out he 's 
 
 Yankee man, 
 But never min', for Pierre Leblanc he's 
 
 good man. jus' de sam'. 
 
 So if you want to know de State of Mich- 
 igan, 
 Very easy to remember in case you might 
 
 forget 
 Only two man mak' her go, 'cos ma fader 
 
 tole me so, 
 An' wan is M'sieu Pierre Leblanc, de oder 
 
 Pere Marquette. 
 
 27 417
 
 SILVER LAKE CAMP 
 
 Silver Lake Camp 
 
 bleak wind sighs thro' the leafless 
 trees 
 
 Like a spirit's wail, and the white snow- 
 flake 
 
 Drifts silently down with the fitful breeze 
 On the lonely camp at Silver Lake. 
 
 Yet the ruddy glow of our camp-fire bright, 
 Not long ago, when the fall was young, 
 
 Illumined the gathering shades of night, 
 
 And the forest rang with the songs we 
 sung. 
 
 But the song is hushed, and the merry jest 
 Is heard no more, when the shadows fall; 
 
 For gone is each well-remembered guest, 
 And the snow like a mantle covereth all. 
 
 Full oft, while the bright September moon 
 Beamed down, did the startled camp 
 
 awake 
 
 From its slumbers deep, as the wizard loon 
 Pealed its wild cry from the neighbor- 
 ing lake. 
 
 418
 
 THE TALE OF A COCKTAIL 
 
 But the loon has taken his airy flight, 
 And far away neath the southern cloud 
 
 He rests his wings, while the Frost King's might, 
 Has wrapped the lake in an icy shroud. 
 
 No longer our light bark ploughs the wave, 
 No longer we tempt the treacherous flood, 
 
 No sentinels watch o'er the old camp, save 
 The guardian genii of the wood. 
 
 The Tale of a Cocktail 
 
 DEAR MR. EDITOR, 
 
 It has always been my camping experience that the 
 oldest among us, especially if he be a grey-haired pa- 
 triarch, is invariably the greatest "alcoholic tempter" 
 of the party. He it is who generally paralyzes the 
 energies of his more youthful brethren with the ma- 
 tutinal cocktail; hence my "Tale of a Cocktail": 
 
 'T'HE Patriarch rose at the break of day, 
 Ere the mists from the mountain had 
 
 fled away, 
 And loudly his merry roundelay, 
 
 Rang over hill and vale: 
 "Spirit of morn, we greet thee! 
 Gladly we rise to meet thee, 
 Difficult 't is to beat thee, 
 
 Matutinal Cocktail!" 
 419
 
 THE TALE OF A COCKTAIL 
 
 A shudder ran thro* the listening throng, 
 For many a time we had heard that song, 
 And feared, alas ! he was making it strong, 
 
 This sour cocktail. 
 
 But the sage went on with his morning lay, 
 And no man dared to utter nay 
 Ah ! little recked he what we might say, 
 
 This Patriarch hale. 
 
 Thus he spake with deep emotion: 
 "Trust me, 't is a soothing potion, 
 
 For your stomach's sake; 
 To reject what heaven has sent us 
 Is to be non compos mentis 
 How much aqua bullientis 
 
 Will you take?" 
 
 We fell on our knees with despairing cry, 
 
 And prayed that for once he would pass us 
 
 by, 
 
 For we felt that should we that cocktail try, 
 
 'T would be our ruin. 
 
 King Canute, 't is written on history's page, 
 Endeavored the billows wild to cage 
 'T were easier task than restrain the Sage, 
 Who still kept brewin'. 
 420
 
 THE TALE OF A COCKTAIL 
 
 While his happy gladsome singing, 
 
 Set the hills and valleys ringing, 
 
 We were kept "ingredients" bringing, 
 
 Much against our will: 
 Lagavulin, Angostura, 
 Which he told us would ensure a 
 Sound digestion, also cure a 
 
 Sudden cold, or stop a chill. 
 
 The hills re-echoed our solemn chant, 
 
 "Te morituri salutant; 
 
 Grant us some mercy, however scant, 
 
 This awful hour!" 
 
 But sterner and colder his visage grew, 
 No pity, alas! the Patriarch knew; 
 Hope shrieking fled as we watched him brew 
 
 His cocktail sour. 
 
 ''Let none escape," was his dire command, 
 "For I swear to-day, by my good right hand, 
 That all who refuse their cocktail stand 
 
 On death's cold brink." 
 The Patriarch's awful accents fell 
 On our frightened ears like a funeral knell, 
 So bidding, each other a last farewell, 
 
 We took our drink. 
 
 421
 
 THE LAND WE LIVE IN 
 
 The lusty salmon in vain may "rise," 
 
 The merry troutlets may gaily play, 
 
 But the green, green sward where our white 
 
 tent lies 
 
 Is good enough for us to-day. 
 For we 're tired so tired and weary too, 
 As we sink into dreamy reverie, 
 And we feel that our dreams are not all true. 
 The world is n't just what it seems to be. 
 
 The tides may ebb, and the tides may flow, 
 And the river gleam in the valley below, 
 But never again shall we fishing go, 
 
 Till the Sage's hour 
 
 Has come, and he goes to the golden shore, 
 Where we trust he '11 be happy for ever more, 
 But we fear he may meet us at the door 
 
 With a cocktail sour! 
 
 The Land we Live in and the Land we 
 Left 
 
 Written for the menu of the Irish Protestant Benevolent 
 Society's annual dinner. March 18, 1895. 
 
 'IP HE children of the Western Gael 
 
 Are gathered here this Patrick's night, 
 To pledge the dear old Innisfail, 
 To drink her health in bumpers bright. 
 422 

 
 DEER-HUNTING 
 
 'T is true we may not see her more, 
 Still we 're not likely to forget, 
 And though we Ve sought another shore, 
 We 're Irish yet! We 're Irish yet! 
 
 Deer-Hunting (By an Expert) 
 
 "V7~OU see I was there on the run-way, 
 Just near where it enters the lake, 
 Could n't get better place if I tried it, 
 For the deer would be certain to take 
 To the water the moment he saw it, 
 And then I could pump in the lead 
 At ten or a dozen yards distance, 
 Till I could n't help killing him dead. 
 (Oh! 't was great sport!) 
 
 (And the excitement !) 
 There I sat watching and waiting, 
 For maybe an hour or two, 
 I could hear my poor heart go a-throbbing, 
 And once, when a chipmunk drew 
 Near to my trembling ambush, 
 I had almost pulled trigger, when 
 He ran up a silver birch tree, 
 And I saw 't was a chipmunk then. 
 (But 't was great !) 
 423
 
 DEER-HUNTING 
 
 I could see the bright leaves of the autumn, 
 Sprinkling the forest floor, 
 Each leaf all bespattered with crimson, 
 As if dipt in the blood of more 
 Than a thousand innocent victims. 
 But, pshaw! 't was the frost and rain, 
 So I said to myself, "Old fellow, 
 Brace up! Be a man again!" 
 (And I braced.) 
 
 Then suddenly, over the hill-side, 
 Where the hounds killed a fawn last year, 
 An echo kept ringing, ringing, 
 'T was the baying of "Chanticleer. " 
 "He 's got him at last," I murmur, 
 "And the old dog will make him jump," 
 So my hold on the rifle tightened, 
 While my heart went thumpity- thump. 
 
 (Holy murder!) 
 
 Here he comes down the pathway, 
 Good Lord ! how he must have run ! 
 But with "Chanty" let out on the home- 
 stretch, 
 
 Don't suppose he enjoyed the fun, 
 Hardly able to bring his legs with him. 
 Well! don't get excited yet! 
 Just wait till he reaches the water, 
 Then fill him before he gets wet. 
 4 2 4
 
 "HE ONLY WORE A SHAMROCK" 
 
 Keep still ! Why ! I can hear him breathing, 
 And now he has passed so close, 
 The point of the rifle could touch him, 
 And easily give him a dose. 
 Just see how he jumped when he smelt me, 
 And look how he struggles and pants, 
 But I '11 wait till he gets to the water, 
 And give the poor devil a chance, 
 (That 's right, is n't it?) 
 
 And now he has entered the water, 
 And when he has gone ten yards or so, 
 I bang away, bang ! with the Marlin 
 Till I find I 've killed a doe. 
 But a nice little doe I can tell you, 
 Is better than nothing at all, 
 So if Providence only spares me, 
 I '11 try it again next fall. 
 (D. V.) 
 
 *' He only Wore a Shamrock" * 
 
 TL-TE only wore a shamrock 
 
 On his faithful Irish breast, 
 Maybe a gift from his colleen oge, 
 The maiden whom he loved best ; 
 
 * Heading Montreal Gazette, March 18, 1894. 
 
 "Private O'Grady, 87th Regt., for wearing a sham- 
 rock in his buttonhole Patrick's Day, was court-mar- 
 tialed." 
 
 425
 
 " HE ONLY WORE A SHAMROCK " 
 
 But the emblem of dear old Ireland, 
 Tho' worn on a jacket of red, 
 Was the emblem of rank disloyalty, 
 And treason most foul, they said. 
 
 Had he but borne the heather, 
 
 That grows on the Scottish hills, 
 
 A rose from an English garden, 
 
 Or a leek from the Cambrian rills, 
 
 Then he might summon his comrades, 
 
 With trumpet, and fife, and drum, 
 
 And march through the breadth of England, 
 
 Till trumpet and fife were dumb. 
 
 But he only wore a shamrock, 
 
 And tho' Britain's most gracious Queen 
 
 Had pinned her cross on his bosom, 
 
 Yet the little trefoil of green 
 
 Might not nestle down beside it, 
 
 For the color, alas! was banned, 
 
 And the Celtic soldier was made to feel 
 
 That he trod an alien land. 
 
 Oh ! poor little modest symbol, 
 Of the glorious Trinity, 
 Rather bloom on your native hill-side, 
 Than cross the dark Irish sea; 
 426
 
 THE GODBOUT 
 
 Rather rest on the loving bosom, 
 Of the Mother that gave you birth, 
 For even your virtues can't chasten 
 The ungrateful English earth. 
 
 The Godbout 
 
 ! pilgrim from the Godbout' s shore 
 Where broad Atlantic billows roll, 
 Speak! hast thou seen the Commodore, 
 Whose brave unconquerable soul, 
 Athirst for wilder, fiercer game 
 Than haunt the calm Laurentian streams, 
 Burned to achieve a greater fame, 
 And realize his fondest dreams? 
 Speak! hast thou seen his grizzled locks, 
 By ocean's vagrant breezes fanned, 
 Where Weymahegan's giant rocks 
 Keep watch and ward o'er sea and land? 
 Hast seen him where the currents lave 
 Fair Mistassini's silver shore, 
 On river sea by land or wave, 
 Speak! hast thou seen the Commodore? 
 The pilgrim spoke while down his cheek 
 The salt, salt tears coursed grievously: 
 
 4 'Good Sir, I feeble am and weak, 
 Yet I my tale may tell to thee 
 427
 
 THE GODBOUT 
 
 I saw the veteran's wasted form, 
 That form we used to mark with pride r 
 Lie prostrate mid the wrack and storm 
 Of Weymahegan's awful tide. 
 Small strength, alack ! of wind or limb 
 Had he upon that fearful day ; 
 But, tho' his eagle eye was dim, 
 He still gazed o'er the hills where lay 
 The Laurentides, where he had spent 
 So many happy, happy hours, 
 Safe from the storms of life, content 
 Amid the Peche's tranquil bowers. 
 'T was thus he spoke : ' Oh ! why was I 
 By youthful traveller's tale beguiled 
 To quit the pleasant Pe"che and die 
 In this inhospitable wild? 
 What lured me on to cast aside 
 The simple pleasures of my youth, 
 Until I longed for Godbout's tide 
 And cared no more for trout, forsooth I 
 Oh ! rash was I to lend an ear, 
 To all the legends of the sea, 
 To bring my faithful legion here 
 Does this reward their constancy? 
 I cannot say, but this I know, 
 That should I view the Peche again, 
 Could I but see its waters flow, 
 I 'd be the humblest of the train 
 That worships there ; no more I 'd roam 
 428
 
 THE GODBOUT 
 
 In search of other piscine fields; 
 
 Contented with my humble home, 
 
 With all that old Laurentian yields, 
 
 I 'd gladly live and cheerful die. ' 
 
 But here his accents 'gan to sink; 
 
 He thought his hour had come, till I 
 
 Administered a generous drink. 
 
 The Veteran gasped, but when the flask 
 
 He saw tho' feeble as a child 
 
 Bravely essayed the pleasant task 
 
 Of trying to empty it, and smiled. 
 
 Yes, tho' he 'd almost passed away 
 
 In one brief moment from our ken 
 
 Yet wondrous 't was to see that day 
 
 His rapturous look, as he smiled again. 
 
 New strength came back to the wasted 
 
 limbs, 
 
 The roses bloomed in his cheek once more, 
 And the sound of our glad thanksgiving 
 
 hymns 
 
 Rang out o'er Weymahegan's shore; 
 He prayed us to pardon his misdeeds, 
 He wept when the legion embraced his neck, 
 And swore by the sacred Laurentides, 
 He 'd never more venture below Quebec. 
 So gently we bore the repentant Chief, 
 Tenderly placed him that awful day 
 On board of the gallant ship " Relief" 
 And swiftly to westward sailed away. " 
 429
 
 DOONSIDE 
 
 The Pilgrim ceased his mournful task 
 Was ended at last, and all was well 
 Then raised to his lips the magic flask, 
 And silently bade me a last farewell. 
 
 P^EAN 
 
 Joy! Joy at the Pe'che let the cariboo 
 
 dance, 
 
 Let the fatted oxen at last be slain, 
 Let the men get full, and the bull moose 
 
 prance, 
 For the Commodore has come home again ! 
 
 Doonside 
 
 HPO me, whose paddle-blade has cleft 
 
 The wave where great St. Lawrence 
 flows 
 
 To me, whose ears have heard the scream 
 Of eagle, high above the snows, 
 Where Fraser darts among the hills 
 What is this tiny stream to me? 
 And what the little melody 
 My soul with rapture fills, 
 Like some old half -forgotten croon? 
 A cradle song of long ago 
 A mother's song so sweet and low 
 Hush! It is the Boon! 
 430
 
 THE SPANISH BIRD 
 
 The Spanish Bird* 
 
 HP ELL me, O bird from the land of the Cid 
 . Why do thy tail feathers droop so low; 
 
 Why art thou mute that was wont to bid 
 Fiercest defiance to every foe? 
 
 No longer thy clarion voice rings out, 
 Pealing like thunder from earth to sky, 
 
 Waking the Pche with thy joyous shout, 
 Till rival roosters were forced to fly. 
 
 The Rooster Loquacious; 
 
 "Once I was youthful and passing fair, 
 Captured first prizes at many a show, 
 
 Could lick all the birds ever flew in air, 
 And beat record time on the heel and toe. 
 
 *' Proud was I then of my martial past, 
 Vain was I too of my gay topknot, 
 
 Successful in war and skilled in court, 
 Gallinaceous beauties my favors sought. 
 
 "But family cares when I settled down 
 
 Made the gallant topknot droop day by day, 
 
 The white wings faded my ruddy crown 
 Disappeared, till those charms had all fled 
 away. 
 
 * From Songs of Old Spain, by the author of Hispaniola, 
 or The Lay of the Last Rooster. 
 431
 
 BOULE 
 
 " Pardon these tears, by emotion stirred, 
 But keenest sorrow of all to know 
 
 Is that once I was known as the ' sacred bird, 
 And now they call me 'sacre oiseau!'" 
 
 Boule 
 
 V\/'AY back on de woods I know a man, 
 
 Was very good hunter too; 
 No bodder at all to understan' 
 
 De moose an' de cariboo. 
 An' wedder you 're meetin' heem on de bush, 
 
 Or trampin' de hills aroun', 
 You always t'ink he was sayin', "Hush!" 
 
 For he never mak' de soun'. 
 
 De fox w'en he 's seein' dat hunter's track 
 
 Jus' shiver hese'f an' go, 
 An' say, "De noise dat hunter mak' 
 
 Is de noise of de fallin' snow 
 Don't geev me a chance, an' dat 's de way 
 
 I pity de poor ole bear, 
 Never hear not'ing on stormy day, 
 
 W'en danger is ev'ry w'ere." 
 
 Is dere an otter along de creek, 
 
 Or mink on de beeg savanne, 
 Don't jomp on de water purty quick 
 
 W'en he 's hearin' dat hunter man? 
 432
 
 BOULE 
 
 Now! an' w'at 's de reason he get so cute, 
 
 Till hees luck is de devil's own? 
 Wall ! it 's only becos' w'en he mak' de shoot, 
 
 He travel aroun' alone. 
 
 But ev'ry t'ing change, an' so I 'm tole, 
 
 Affer a long, long tarn, 
 De hunter man change, for he 's comin' ole, 
 
 Dough he tell us he 's jus' de sam' ; 
 An' bimeby w'en he 's sittin' dere 
 
 Wan day on a tamarac log, 
 He say to hese'f, "I wonder w'ere 
 
 I can get me a leetle dog? 
 
 "'Nice leetle dog wit' stan'up tail, 
 
 Follow me t'roo de wood, 
 Stick to me close along de trail, 
 
 An' me, I will treat heem good: 
 Train heem up right, an' dere won't be need 
 
 Havin' heem play de fool." 
 So he 's buyin' a dog I dunno de breed 
 
 An' de nex' t'ing he call heem "Boule. " 
 
 So he train dat dog till he 's nearly dead, 
 
 Or wishin' hese'f in jail 
 W'en to lie down, never show hees head, 
 
 W'en he can wag hees tail; 
 28 433
 
 BOULE 
 
 Show heem de very bes' way to smell 
 On de bush, if he 's passin' t'roo, 
 
 An' out on de lake he can do so well, 
 He never upset canoe. 
 
 Wonderful dog! an* now an' den, 
 
 Affer he finish up, 
 He 's takin' heem off to show hees frien* 
 
 How he was train de pup. 
 "Come along, Boule, kip close to me, 
 
 Steady, an' watch de groun', 
 Wait till I tell you go an' see 
 
 If anyt'ing 's lyin' aroun'." 
 
 An' to see heem walk, dat hunter man. 
 
 An' to hear heem talk also : 
 "Easy, ma frien', de bes' you can, 
 
 Easy, an nice an' slow. 
 Dis is de heart of de game countree, 
 
 Partridge on ev'ry log, 
 Tranquillement ! for de leaf, sapree, 
 
 Was never so dry but w'ere 's de dog? 
 
 "Boule! Boule! Boule! Boule!" 
 
 (Den he would raise de row!) 
 "Boule! Boule! you ole fool 
 
 W'y do you leave me now?" 
 434
 
 BOULE 
 
 "Way on de right, w'ere de bush is t'ick, 
 
 Dere 's a rush, an' we see a tail, 
 Long enough too to mak' us sick, 
 
 An' a cariboo go full sail, 
 Flyin' along wit' de pup behin', 
 
 Yellin' hees head off sure 
 Maudit ! if dat dog he was only mine, 
 
 I very soon work de cure! 
 
 Yass ! if to-morrow will ketch nex' wick, 
 
 Or ma gran'moder ketch de moon, 
 He 's gettin some chance if he travel quick 
 
 For ketchin' heem jus' as soon. 
 An' affer he 's scarin' dat cariboo, 
 
 Back he was come encore, 
 Lookin' so proud of de job he do, 
 
 An' de hunter man start some more. 
 
 " Careful now don't mak' a noise, 
 
 Creep on your han' an' knee; 
 Some of you men are jus' lak boys 
 
 Comin' from school sapre"e. 
 Don't you see de dog? for he's gone again, 
 
 Off to I dunno w'ere" 
 An' den lak a rushin' railway train 
 
 We 're hearin' a beeg moose dere. 
 435
 
 BOULE 
 
 Tearin' along across de hill, 
 
 Up w'ere de pine tree grow, 
 Poor leetle Boule a' follerin' still, 
 
 An' hollerin' as he go! 
 Mebbe de hunter 's not gettin' mad 
 
 Wen he commence to say, 
 " Sorry I be, but dere 's somet'ing bad 
 
 Wrong wit' de dog to-day. 
 
 "Boule! Boule! Boule! Boule!" 
 
 (Oh, how he raise de row!) 
 "Boule! Boule! you ole fool 
 
 W'y do you leave me now?" 
 
 "Very fine way to hunt de wood!" 
 
 Dat 's w'at we tell heem den; 
 "Nice leetle dog" it 's all no good, 
 
 An' he say: "I dunno, ma frien', 
 Mebbe you 're right w'en a man he 's ole, 
 
 Can't learn heem a trick is new, 
 An' jus' as soon as de dog is sole, 
 
 I '11 hunt as I used to do. " 
 
 So he 's sellin' hees dog on Joe Laflamme, 
 Kip de toll on de bridge below, 
 
 Never have dog he lak de sam', 
 Dat 's w'at he 's sayin', Joe. 
 436
 
 CAUDA MORRHUAE 
 
 Now he 's beginning for feelin' well, 
 Now he can sleep on de chair all day, 
 
 For Boule 's commencin' to mak' a yell 
 Wen customer 's less dan a mile away. 
 
 Dat 's all right an' de hunter man 
 Travel agen as he used to do, 
 
 All alone, an' I understan' 
 Gettin' de ole tarn luck also. 
 
 Cauda Morrhuae 
 
 ODOR little Tommy Cod 
 
 Took his best fishing-rod, 
 Cunningly fashioned of split bamboo; 
 Likewise his tackle, 
 Of red and brown hackle, 
 To venture down stream in his bark canoe. 
 
 Tommy had registered, 
 
 Solemnly, I have heard, 
 
 Promised and vowed, that ere evening fell 
 
 Dore and speckled trout, 
 
 Black bass and bull-pout, 
 
 Would cheerfully yield to his magic spell. 
 
 Since time immemorial, 
 In things piscatorial, 
 
 Tho' Magog be famed among knights of the rod ; 
 437
 
 CAUDA MORRHUAE 
 
 Yet, making due limit 
 For what may be in it, 
 
 Little Tommy might know it was no plaice 
 for Cod. 
 
 Now, in the buoyant sea, 
 
 There 's so much buoyancy 
 
 A Cod if he wishes can easily float ; 
 
 But in the swift Magog, 
 
 Why, even a bullfrog. 
 
 Would much rudder perch on the side of a boat. 
 
 I told him the dangers 
 
 That all who are strangers 
 
 Might meet with, in case they should venture 
 
 below ; 
 
 Por the mill-dam 's so turbot 
 No mortal can curb it, 
 As those who have tried it must certainly 
 
 know. 
 
 O Tommy, take care of 
 Your life and beware of 
 The treacherous mill-dam you shortly shall 
 
 view! 
 
 But Tommy was vain and 
 He quitted the mainland, 
 And put out to sea in his frail canoe. 
 438
 
 CAUDA MORRHUAE 
 
 The craft like an arrow 
 
 Sped down the long, narrow, 
 
 And turbulent channel, where wild billows rave; 
 
 Then past Point MacFarlane, 
 
 Like shot from a marlin, 
 
 Poor Tommy swept on to his watery grave. 
 
 When Tom struck the mill-dam, 
 
 The mill-dam, the mill-dam, 
 
 When Tom struck the mill-dam, he dam'd 
 
 the dam'd mill; 
 Why should he strike it, 
 When there 's nothing like it 
 To test all the best of a mariner's skill? 
 
 I saw the craft flounder, 
 
 As fiercely around her 
 
 The hungry waves leapt on the ill-fated prey;; 
 
 And each time they struck her 
 
 Poor Cod cried for sucker, 
 
 But sucker was scarce on that terrible day. 
 
 To throw in the river 
 Some oil of cod liver, 
 
 And thereby the grim foaming waters becalm. 
 Was Tom's next endeavor, 
 But he found that his lever 
 Was all out of order, and not worth a dam 
 (mill-dam). 
 
 439
 
 CAUDA MORRHUAE 
 
 At last he went under, 
 
 And, faith! 't was no wonder, 
 
 For a Cod should n't go where he does n't 
 
 belong; 
 
 "Requiescat in pace" 
 I murmur, in case he 
 Should rise and object to this mournful song. 
 
 We found him next morning 
 
 A sorrowful warning; 
 
 The short line we chartered, and shipped 
 
 him by rail 
 To distant Atlantic, 
 By way of Megantic, 
 And so I 've arrived at the end of my tail. 
 
 440 

 
 Index to Titles 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Autumn Days 190 
 
 Barbotte (Bull-pout) 320 
 
 Bateese and his Little Decoys 237 
 
 Bateese, the Lucky Man 144 
 
 Bell of St. Michel, De 63 
 
 Bloom (A Song of Cobalt) 406 
 
 Boule 432 
 
 Boy from Calabogie, The 407 
 
 Bruno the Hunter 262 
 
 Calcite Vein (A Tale of Cobalt) 409 
 
 Camp on de " Cheval Gris," De 98 
 
 Canadian Country Doctor, The 158 
 
 Canadian Forever 355 
 
 Canadian Magpie, The 252 
 
 Cauda Morrhuae 437 
 
 Champlain 300 
 
 Charmette 340 
 
 Chibougamou 394 
 
 Child Thoughts 235 
 
 Corduroy Road, The 125 
 
 Cur6 of Calumette 131 
 
 Deer-Hunting (By an Expert) 423 
 
 Devil, The 273 
 
 Dieudonne" (God-Given) 272 
 
 Doctor Hilaire 313 
 
 Dominique 349 
 
 441
 
 INDEX TO TITLES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 DonaT Campbell 222 
 
 Doonside 430 
 
 Dreams 229 
 
 Dublin Fusilier, The 225 
 
 Family Laramie, The 281 
 
 First Robin, The 401 
 
 Fox Hunt, The 374 
 
 Getting On 288 
 
 Getting Stout 310 
 
 Godbout, The 427 
 
 Grand Seigneur, The 80 
 
 Great Fight, The 379 
 
 " Gun, De Papineau" 1 8 
 
 Habitant, De i 
 
 Habitant's Jubilee Ode, The 113 
 
 Habitant's Summer, The 168 
 
 " He Only Wore a Shamrock " 425 
 
 Hill of St. Sebastien, The 145 
 
 .Holy Island, The 362 
 
 Home 352 
 
 How Bateese Came Home 21 
 
 Joe Boucher 337 
 
 Air "Car si mon moine" 
 
 Johnnie Courteau 122 
 
 Johnnie's First Moose 214 
 
 Josette 335 
 
 Keep Out of the Weeds 359 
 
 Lac Souci 342 
 
 Land We Live in and the Land We Left, The 422 
 
 (Written for the menu of the Irish Protestant 
 Benevolent Society's annual dinner, March 18, 
 
 1895-) 
 
 Last Portage, The 286 
 
 iittle Bateese 220 
 
 442
 
 INDEX TO TITLES 
 
 PACK 
 
 Little Lac Grenier (Gren-Yay) 174 
 
 Little Mouse 210 
 
 Log Jam, The 246 
 
 Madeleine Vercheres 192 
 
 Marie Louise 149 
 
 Marriage 387 
 
 " Maxime Labelle " 42 
 
 A Canadian Voyageur's Account of the Nile 
 
 Expedition 
 
 Meb-be 325 
 
 Memories 49 
 
 Mon Frere Camille 162 
 
 Mon Choual " Castor " 70 
 
 M'sieu Smit 82 
 
 The Adventures of an Englishman in the 
 
 Canadian Woods. 
 
 My Leetle Cabane 140 
 
 National Policy 187 
 
 Natural Philosophy 297 
 
 Nice Leetle Canadienne, De 30 
 
 Nile Expedition, The 42 
 
 ("Maxime Labelle") 
 
 Notaire Publique, De 39 
 
 Old House and the New, The 153 
 
 Old Pine Tree, The 218 
 
 (Dedicated to the St. George Snowshoe Club.) 
 
 Old Sexton, The 231 
 
 Ole Docteur Fiset 118 
 
 Ole Tarn on Bord a Plouffe 75 
 
 Oyster Schooner, The 137 
 
 " Papineau Gun, De" 18 
 
 Pelang 65 
 
 Phil-o-rum Juneau 52 
 
 Phil-o- Rum's Canoe 242 
 
 443
 
 INDEX TO TITLES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Pierre Leblanc 413 
 
 (Dedicated to the Hon. Peter White.) 
 
 Poirier's Rooster 345 
 
 Pioneers 292 
 
 Pride 265 
 
 'Poleon Dor6 32 
 
 Pro Patria 305 
 
 Rainy Day in Camp, A 332 
 
 Red Canoe, The 255 
 
 Riviere des Prairies 367 
 
 " Rose Delima," The 199 
 
 Rossignol, The- 322 
 
 (Old French-Canadian Air, " Sur La Montagne") 
 
 Silver Lake Camp 418 
 
 " Snowbird, De" 1 10 
 
 Snubbing (Tying-up) the Raft 327 
 
 Spanish Bird, The 431 
 
 Stove Pipe Hole, De 104 
 
 Strathcona's Horse 212 
 
 (Dedicated to Lord Strathcona.) 
 
 Tale of a Cocktail, The 419 
 
 Twins 357 
 
 Two Hundred Years Ago 256 
 
 Victoria Square (An Idyll) 384 
 
 Vieux Temps, Le 9 
 
 Voyageur, The 259 
 
 We're Irish Yet 392 
 
 When Albani Sang 91 
 
 Wind that Lifts the Fog, The 372 
 
 Windigo, The 177 
 
 Wreck of the "Julie Plante," The 7 
 
 Yankee Families 282 
 
 444
 
 Index to First Lines 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A long de road from Bord a Plouffe 273 
 
 A quiet Boy was Joe Bedotte 325 
 
 A rainy day in camp! how you draw the blankets 
 
 closer 332 
 
 A stranger might say if he see heem drink till he 
 
 almos* fall 313 
 
 A way off back on de mountain-side 340 
 
 Bad luck to fight on New Year's night 379 
 
 Bonjour, M'sieu' you want to know 18 
 
 Bord a Plouffe, Bord a Plouffe 229 
 
 Dat 's very cole an' stormy night on Village St. 
 
 Mathieu 104 
 
 De cloud is hide de moon, but dere 's plaintee light 
 
 above 214 
 
 De corduroy road go bompety bomp 125 
 
 De place I get born me, is up de reever i 
 
 Dere 's a beeg jam up de reever. 246 
 
 Dere 's no voyageur on de reever never run hees 
 
 canoe d'ecorce 131 
 
 Dere 's some lak dory, an' some lak bass 320 
 
 Dere 's somet'ing stirrin* ma blood to-night 259 
 
 De win' is sleepin* in de pine 255 
 
 Dey call it de Holy Islan' 362 
 
 Did you ever see an air-hole on the ice 394 
 
 Dis was de story of boy an' girl 149 
 
 Donal' Campbell Donal' Bane 222 
 
 445
 
 INDEX TO FIRST LINES 
 
 Eighteen, an' face lak de w'at 's de good? 310 
 
 Ev'ry State upon de Union, w'en dey write her up 
 
 to-day 413 
 
 Get along leetle mouse, kick de snow up behin' you. . . 210 
 
 Go easy wit' the paddle, an' steady wit' de oar 177 
 
 Go 'way, go 'way, don't ring no more, ole bell of Saint 
 
 Michel 63 
 
 He 's alway ketchin* dore 1 , an' he 's alway ketchin' 
 
 trout 144 
 
 He only wore a shamrock 425 
 
 Here 's to you, Uncle Kruger! slainte'! an slainte 1 
 
 galore 225 
 
 He sit on de corner mos' every night, ole Phil-o-rum 
 
 Juneau 53 
 
 He was twenty-one in April forty inches round the 
 
 chest 407 
 
 Hssh ! look at ba-bee on de leetle blue chair 281 
 
 I congratulate ye, Francis 357 
 
 If dey 're walkin' on de roadside, an' dey 're bote in 
 
 love togeder 292 
 
 If I sole ma ole blind trotter for fifty dollar cash 272 
 
 I know I 'm not too young an ma back is not as 
 
 straight 288 
 
 I know very well t' was purty hard case 231 
 
 I lak on summer ev'ning, w'en nice cool win' is bio win' 75 
 
 I 'm bus' up, for a mont' or two 374 
 
 I 'm poor man, me, but I buy las' May 70 
 
 I 'm sittin' to-night on ma leetle cabane, more hap- 
 pier dan de king 140 
 
 I 'm sleepin' las' night w'en I dream a dream 286 
 
 In dreams of the night I hear the call 190 
 
 I ought to feel more satisfy an' happy dan I be. ...... 145 
 
 I read on de paper mos' ev'ry day, all about Jubilee . . 113 
 
 I see Josette on de car to-day 335 
 
 446
 
 INDEX TO FIRST LINES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I see de many reever on de State an' ev'ry w'ere 367 
 
 Is it only twelve mont' I play de fool 153 
 
 I s'pose mos' ev'ry body t'ink hees job 's about de 
 
 hardes* 158 
 
 I used to be leevin* on Bonami 409 
 
 I 've told you many a tale, my child, of the old heroic 
 
 days 192 
 
 Joe Boucher was a frien' of mine 337 
 
 Johnnie Courteau of de mountain 122 
 
 Jus' as de sun is tryin' Climb on de summer sky.. . . 322 
 
 Las' night dey 're passin', de golden plover 327 
 
 Leetle Lac Grenier, she 's all alone 174 
 
 " Listen my child," said the old pine tree, to the little 
 
 one nestling near 218 
 
 Ma fader he spik to me long ago 265 
 
 Mon frere Camille he was first class blood 162 
 
 Mos' ev'rywan lak de robin 252 
 
 M'sieu Paul Joulin, de Notaire Publique 39 
 
 No smarter man you can never know 359 
 
 Oh! it 's bad to be unlucky in ev'ry t'ing you do. ... 401 
 "Oh! Mother the bells are ringing as never they rang 
 
 before" 352 
 
 Oh ! pilgrim from the Godbout's shore 427 
 
 Oh! the blooming cheek of beauty, tho' it 's full of 
 
 many a peril 406 
 
 Oh! we are a band of bummers, and for many joyous 
 
 summers 384 
 
 O I 'm very very tire Marie 237 
 
 O I was thine, and thou wert mine, and ours the 
 
 boundless plain 212 
 
 O leetle bird dat 's come to us w'en stormy win' she 's 
 
 blowin' no 
 
 Ole Docteur Fiset of Saint Anicet 118 
 
 "O ma ole canoe! w'at 's matter wit' you" 242 
 
 447
 
 INDEX TO FIRST LINES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 O memory, take my hand to-day 235 
 
 On wan dark night on Lac St. Pierre 7 
 
 O Spirit of the mountains that speaks to us to-night . . 49 
 
 Our fader lef ole France behin', dat 's many year. ... 187 
 
 Over de sea de schooner boat 372 
 
 O who can blame de winter, never min' de hard he 's 
 
 blowin' 168 
 
 Pelang! Pelang! Mon cher garcon 65 
 
 Poor little Tommy Cod 437 
 
 Talk about lakes ! dere 's none dat lies on de mountain 
 
 side 342 
 
 Tell me, O bird from the land of the Cid 431 
 
 The bleak wind sighs thro' the leafless trees 418 
 
 The Children of the Western Gael 422 
 
 The Patriarch rose at the break of day 419 
 
 There 's a girl at Calabogie an' another at the Soo. . . . 387 
 
 To me, whose paddle-blade has cleft 430 
 
 To the hut of the peasant, or lordly hall 80 
 
 Two honder year ago, de worl* is purty slow 256 
 
 Venez-ici, mon cher ami, an' sit down by me so. . . 9 
 
 Very offen I be t'inkin' of de queer folk goin'roun'. . . . 297 
 Victoriaw: she have beeg war, E-gyp 's de nam' de 
 
 place 42 
 
 Wan morning de walkin boss say " Damase " 82 
 
 Was leevin' across on de State Vermont 305 
 
 Wat 's all dem bell a ringin' for, can hear dem ev'ry 
 
 w'ere? 137 
 
 " W'at 's dat? de ole man gone you say?" 345 
 
 Was workin' away on de farm dere, wan morning not 
 
 long ago 91 
 
 Way back on de woods I know a man 432 
 
 What means this gathering to-night? 392 
 
 W'en I was young boy on de farm, dat 's twenty 
 
 year ago 21 
 
 448
 
 INDEX TO FIRST LINES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 When our fathers crossed the ocean 355 
 
 "Were '11 we go? " say Pierre de Monts 300 
 
 You bad leetle boy, not moche you care 220 
 
 You can pass on de worl' w'erever you lak 30 
 
 You can sew heem up in a canvas sack 199 
 
 You dunno ma leetle boy Dominique 349 
 
 You have never hear de story of de young Napoleon 
 
 Dore? 32 
 
 You 'member de ole log-camp, Johnnie, up on de 
 
 Cheval Gris 98 
 
 You never hear tell, Marie, ma femme 262 
 
 You see I was there on the run-way 423 
 
 You s'pose God love de Yankee 282 
 
 449
 
 DATE DUE 
 
 D gjj 
 
 
 
 
 
 BKDDEC ( 
 
 1966 
 
 
 
 
 p**^ 
 
 
 
 OC1 
 
 2 TB7 
 
 
 
 RFCD 
 
 AUG 7 196 
 
 7 
 
 
 i rcn ' 
 
 1 19K8 
 
 
 
 i rtc s 
 nHflh FFR 2 
 
 B 1968 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 GAYLORD 
 
 
 
 PRINTED IN U.S.A.
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A 000 686 063 9