William Henry Drummond: Verses about Nature

NEW doth the sun appear,
   The mountains' snows decay,
Crown'd with frail flowers forth comes the baby year.
   My soul, time posts away;
   And thou yet in that frost
   Which flower and fruit hath lost,
As if all here immortal were, dost stay.
   For shame! thy powers awake,
Look to that Heaven which never night makes black,
And there at that immortal sun's bright rays,
Deck thee with flowers which fear not rage of days!

O 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,
But the summons hath come with roll of drum,
and bugles ringing shrill,
Startling the prairie antelope, the grizzly of the
hill.
'Tis the voice of Empire calling, and the child-
ren 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 hoofbeats 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 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.

Leetle Lac Grenier, she 's all alone,
Right on de mountain top,
But cloud sweepin' by, will fin' tam to stop
No matter how quickly he want to go,
So he'll 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 again 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.

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 on 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 -leetle Lac Grenier!

He's alway ketchin' doré, 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 wil' 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' before it 's comin' breakfas' , he 's holler
on hees boy
For carry home two dozen duck or more.

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' fish too, is geev'up feelin'
scare,
An' de rabbit he can stay at home in bed,
For he feesh an' shoot no longer, ole Jean
Bateese Belair,
'Cos he 's dead.

O 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!

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?

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
W'en dey pass on way to schoolhouse, mon cher petit oiseau!

No wan say you sing lak robin, but you got no tam 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!

In 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.

Like diamonds flashing athwart the tide
The dancing moonbeams quiver and glow,
As out on the deep we swiftly glide
To our distant Mecca, Ile Perrot.

Ile 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 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.

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 Ile Perrot's shore,
And welcome the harbor of old Pointe Claire!

'Listen 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' shy moon hides, and
deeply the drifts are lying.'

'Ah! mother.' the little pine tree replied,
'you are dreaming again to-night
Of ghostly visions and phantom forms that for-
ever mock your sight
'Tis true 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.

And loud they sang as they tramped along of
the glorious bygone days
Whan valley and hill re-echeoed the snow-
shoer's hymn of praise
Till the shy moon gazed down smiling, and the
north wind pause 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.'

WRITTEN TO COMMEMORATE THE ANNIVER-
SARY OF MY BROTHER TOM 'S BIRTHDAY

O 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,
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
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.

DONAL' CAMPBELL
-Donal' Bane-
sailed away across the
ocean
With the tartans of Clan
Gordon, to the Indies'
distant shore,
But on Dargai's lonely hill-
side, Donal' Campbell
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
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 yieldong
conflict
Of all the memories shrouding a stern uncon-
quered race!

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 foeman,
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 tii 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!

Mos' ev'ryman 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 bird dat fly,
Dunno w'at we do widout heem,
But offen 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!

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'll wálk 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'iskey jack dere you'll see
Flyin' aroun' de shaintee
An' dat was de bird for me.

You 'll mebbe not lak hees singin'
Dough it 's better dan not'ing too,
For affer he do hees bes', den
W'at 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 youse'f -dat 's all.

See heem dere, now he's comin'
Hoppin' an' hoppin' aroun'
W'en 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 on 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'iskey lack!

So here 's to de bird of winter
Wearin' de coonskin coat,
W'enever 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'iskey jack, get ready, we drink you
Toujours à vot' bonne santé!
Baptême!

Two 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?
I 'll tole you who dey were! de beeg rough
voyageurs,
W'it deir cousin w'at you call coureurs de bois,
Dat 's fightin' all de tam, an' never care a dam,
An' ev'ry wan dem feller he 's come from
Canadaw
Baptême!
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 the ole tam botte
sauvage-
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 'll know de place dey go, from de
canyon down below,
Or de mountain wit' hees nose aboeve 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!

So, ma frien' , de Yankee man, he mus' try an'
understan'
W'en 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,
W'en you hear of de la Salle an' Cadillac-
Hooraw!
For de flag of de la Salle an' Cadillac.

O 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 fragments 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.

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 ling'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 crystal lakes,
Tell us of fiercer pleasures when the Storm King awakes.

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 Canayen'
Rises and sheds its perfume like flowers of Araby,
O'er all the true-born loyal Enfants de la Patrie.

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! répondit Pandore
Brigadier! vous avez raison,
Brigadier! répondit 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'll worship thee among the hills where flows the Saint-Maurice.

M'sieu Paul Joulin, de Notaire Publique
Is come I s'pose seexty year hees life
An' de mos' riche man on Sainte Angelique
W'en 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' mariée,
But Julie she's love only jus' wan man,
Hees nam' it is Jérémie Dandurand
An' he's work for her sak' all de hard he can
'Way off on de wood, up de Mattawa.

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 Curé toute suite, chérie;
I dress you de very bes' style à la mode,
If you promise for be Madame Paul Joulin,
For I got me fine house on Bord à 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 Jérémie
For I love dat young feller lak not'ing at all,
An' I'm very surprise you was not know me.
Jérémie w'en he's geev me dat nice gol' ring,
Las' tam 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 tam 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.

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' tam 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 tam 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 tam;
She's forget de poor Jérémie Dandurand
An' tole de Notaire she will be hees famme.

W'en Jérémie come off de wood nex' spring,
An' fin' dat hees girl she was get mariée
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 Dorothée,
Dat he's love long tam, an' she don't say 'No,'
So he's forget too all about Julie
An' mak' de mariée wit' hese'f also.

I ought to feel more satisfy an' happy dan
I be,
For better husban' dan ma own, it 's very
hard to fin'
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 tam I'm jus' 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!

I use to t'ink it '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 lan' was
no man 's lan'?
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 my fault dey learn
dem ole tam song
W'at good is it tak' me off lak dat back on
ma own countree?
Till de reever once more I see again, an' lissen
it 's current flow
An' dere's Hercule de ferry man cmoin'
across de bay!
Wat' s use of foolin' me lak dat? for surely I
mus' know
de hill of St. Sebastien is very far away!

W'en 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 lan' you love
For travel de far you can, ma belle, it 's
fine 's on top de groun'!'
Jus' w'en I 'm lookin' dat beeg cloud too,
standin' dere lak a wall!
Sam' as de hill I know so well, home on ma
own countree.

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.

W'at 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 seein' dat place again, I never
return no more!
So let de heart break-I don't care, I won't
say not'ing-me-
I'll 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!

I 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.

I don't lak see de reever she's never doin' not'in'
But passin' empty ev'ry day on Bout de l'ile below--
Ma ole shaloup dat's lyin' wit' all its timber rottin'
An' tam 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.

'Twas diff'rent on dem summer you couldn'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.'

Don't 'member lak I use to, for now I'm gettin' ole, me--
But still I can't forget Bill Wade, an' Guillaume Lagassé,
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 l'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!

O dat was tam 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 Boulé' an' 'J'aimerai toujour.'

Dere dey're comin' on de wagon! fine young feller ev'ry wan too,
Dress im up de ole tam 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 offen 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.

An' upon de morning early, wen 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 Lagassé 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 Lagassé.

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!

I s'pose mos'ev'ry body t'ink hees job's
about de hardes'
From de boss man on de Guvernement to
poor man on de town
From de curé to de lawyer, an' de farmer to
de school boy
An' all de noder feller was mak' de worl'
go roun'.

But dere 's wan man got hees han' 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 contree
An' he 's only man I know-me, don't got
no holiday.

If you 're comin' off de city spen' de summer-
tam among us
An' you walk out on de morning 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 plesan' t'ing

'Drivin' dat way all de summer up an' down
along de reever
W'ere de nice cool win' is blowin' among de
maple tree
Den w'en he 's mak' hees visit, comin' home
before de night tam
For pass de quiet evening wit' hees wife an'
familee.'

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 de way 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
in 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.

O! le bon Dieu help de doctor w'en de mes-
sage come to call heem
From hees warm bed on de night-tam 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.

Yass! de doctor he can tole you, if he have de
tam for talkin'
All about de bird was singin' before de sum-
mer lef'
For he got dem on hees bureau an' he 's doin'
it hese'f too
An' de las' tam I was dere, me, I see dem all
mese'f.

But about de way he travel t'roo de stormy
night of winter
W'en 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 tam 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 parish Saint
Mathieu
An' do doubt he's feelin' mebbe jus' de
sam' as noder feller
So he rader do hees talkin' about somet'ing
dat was new.

De 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'll 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
W'en we're passin' on de corner w'ere de lilly
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'll watch behin'- me - an' you
can watch de bow
An' you'll see a leetle clearer
W'en 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'
W'ere it stan' de lumber shaintee,
If it's true, den yuo'll 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,
An' look out you don't be shakin'
Or de bad shot you'll 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 ir reach across de reever
Dat'll geev' some moose de fever!
Wait now, Johnnie, don't you worry,
No use bein' on de hurry,
But lissen for de answer, it'll come before you
know.

For 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?

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-s-h! 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 tonder,
He mus' go near fourteen honder!
Dat's de feller I been watchin' all de evening,
I dunno.

I'll geev' anoder call, jus' a leetle wan or
two,
Steady, Johnnie, steady-kip your head dwon
low-
W'en he see dere's no wan waitin' I wonder
w'at he'll 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'll 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,
So dat's your firse moose Johnnie! wall! re-
member all I say-
Does n't matter w'at you 're chasin',
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.

Ole Docteur Fiset of Saint Anicet,
Sapré tonnerre! he was leev long tam!
I'm sure he's got ninety year or so,
Beat all on de Parish 'cept Pierre Courteau,
An' day affer day he work all de sam'.

Dat house on de hill, you can see it still,
She's sam' place he buil' de firs' tam' 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!

But 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'
W'ere dey eat mos' ev'ryt'ing good dey fin',
Till dey can't go on school nearly two, t'ree day.

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,
W'en ev'ryt'ing's drown on de Spring-tam flood,
An' workin' for not'ing half tam' 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!

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, Bonjour!'

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 'Faubourg,'
Ev'ry place on de Parish he know dem all,
An' you ought to see de nice way he go
For 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.

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 'Faubourg,'
'Twas 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' offen 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 'Faubourg!'

I'm sittin' to-night on maleetle ca-
bane, more happier dan de king,
An' ev'ry corner 's singin' 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 storm, 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 tam 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 tam
An' de spot w'ere de beeg trout jomp so
moche down by de lumber dam.

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 tili 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-tam
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, l'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.

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 chien, off on de
great beeg town,
W'ere 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 stayin' in.

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 ole 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.

I know very well t'was 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 first 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.

So dat 's w'at he do, Narcisse Beaulieu,
An' it 's not very easy I 'm tolin' you,
But a purty large heavy load,
For on summer de cow she was run aroun'
An' eat all de flower on de Curé '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 cimetière,
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.

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 Ile Bizard
An' never pass on our place.

But it 's bully tam 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
W'ere 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 cimetière
An' carryin' somet'ing -you know w'at!

So she 's takin' good aim on de beeges' man
Abn' pull de trigger de hard she can,
An' he 's yellin' an' don 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 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 classe 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.'

O I'm very very tire Marie,
I wonder if I'm able hol' 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 fellin' purty tough
An' at ninety year can do mos' ev'ry t'ing,
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
W'en de cole win' of October de blin' is blow-
ing t'roo
An' de bluebill 's flyin' up an' down de reever.

O! de bodder I 'm havin' wit' you all!
It 's makin' me feel ole before ma tam!
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 'll ring across de lake along de breeze,
Till de wil' bird dey will lissen up de reever
far an' near,
An' tole de noder wan too, de musique dey was
hear
An' dey 'll fly aroun' our head before we know
it.

Come here, Francois, an' min' you watch
yourse'f!
You can 't forget de las' day we was out,
Your breat'dere's very leetle of it lef'
An' tole you it was better shut your mout'
W'en 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 vey 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 sreechin', 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'.

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 'll come a-flyin', an' den
we 'll have de fun!
Yass, yass, kip up de flappin' , O! ain 't
she got the 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 ', very very
tire,
An' de shiver 's comin' on me! so Marie poke
up de fire
An' mebber I 'll feel better on de morning.


De leetle duck may call on de spring tam an'
de fall
W'en dey see de wil' bird flyin' on de air
Dey may cry aroun' hees door, but he 'll never
come no more
For showin' dem de lesson! ole Jean Bateese
Belair.

You 'member de ole log-camp, Johnnie, up on de Cheval Gris,
W'ere 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 wasn't for not'ing, you're gettin' rheumateez 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.

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,
W'y, Johnnie, I'm cry lak de bebé, 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.

I t'ink you're on boar' of de raf', Johnnie, near head of Riviere du Loup,
W'en 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' 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!

W'at 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 tam you was goin' bed,
W'y readin' dat letter so offen, you mus have it all on de head!

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' toujours you're un bon garçon,
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.

An' w'en dance she was tout finis, Johnnie, I go de sam' bunk wit' you
W'ere 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'll 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.'

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 Chateauvert,
For t'ink you're garçon 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 tam she must come some day,
W'en 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' tam too, for sure, I'll 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.

O, 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' .

An' de groun' she go a'sleepin' t'roo all de
stormy season,
Restin' from her work las' summer, till she 's
waken by the rain
Dat le bon Dieu sen' some morning, an' 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-tam 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 tam a-callin'
But for fear he wet hees fedder, hide away
upon de tree.

On de swamp beside de reever, mebbe jus'
about de fly-tam
W'ere 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-tam.
He 's only kin' of cuckoo we got on Cana-
daw

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.

W 'en de grosbec on de pine tree, wak' you
early wit' hees singin' ,
W'en you lissen to de pa'tridge a-beatin'on
hees drum,
W'en de w'ole place roun' about you wit'
musique is a-ringin' ,
Den you know de winter 's over, an' de
summer 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 and clear,
Dat 's de tam for plant de barley, an' de injun
corn we sow it,
W'en de leaf upon de maple 's jus' de size
of squirrel's ear.

'Noder job is feexin' fences, if we don 't be lak
de las' year,
W'en 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 some-
tam 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
hillside, an' dey feed dem
W'ere 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.

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 dan-
ger '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' ,
W'en 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 habi-
tant.

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.

Dere'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 Curé of
Calumette.

Hees fader is full-blooded Irish, an' hees moder
is pure Canayenne,
Not offen dat stock go tegedder, 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' wan t'ing de Curé wont stan' it;
mak' fun of de Irlandais
An' of course 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 Curé, 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
tam he got leetle wet,
An' de Bishop might sen' beeger Curé, for it's
purty tough place, Calumette!'

Ha! ha! how I wish I was dere, me, w'en he
go on de mission call
On de shaintee camp way up de reever, drivin'
hees own cariole,
An' he meet blagger' 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 Curé, 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 Curé 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 Curé, 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 Curé he's goin' for visit de
shaintee encore
Of course he was mak' beeges' mission never
see on dat place before.

An' he know more, I'm sure dan de lawyer,
an' dere's many poor habitant
Is glad for see Fader O'Hara, an' ax w'at he
t'ink of de law

W'en 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 pillin' 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'!

O! 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 ton-
der, de win' an' de rain;
So we're bote passin' out on de doorway, an'
lissen an' lissen again.

An' it's lonesome for see de beeg cloud sweep-
in' 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'
around de hill
All de tam gettin' closer. closer, dat's de soun'
mak' de heart stan'still!

It's de bell of de leetle Curé, de music of deat'
we hear,
Along on de black road ringin', an' soon it was
comin' near
Wan minute de face of de Curé we see by de
lantern light,
An' he's gone from us, jus' lak a shadder, into
de stormy night.

An' de buggy rush down de hill an' over
de bridge below,
W'ere creek run so high on de spring-tam,
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 Curé, an' de poor
soul dat 's passin' away.

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 Curé
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 always 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 'll be wit' me de leetle Curé 'fore I'm
leffin' dis place below.

For I know I'll be feel more easy, if he's
sittin' dere by de bed
An' he'll geev' me de good-bye message, an'
place hees han' on ma head,
Den I'll hol' if he 'll only let me, dat han' till
de las' las' breat'
An' bless leetle Fader O'Hara, de Curé of
Calumette.

De 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 isn't fonny
For it's not easy get ev'ryt'ing, you mus' know--

All de sam' dere is somet'ing dey got ev'ryboddy,
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.

O! dat was de place w'en de spring tam 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 tam 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 wil' duck is quackin'
Along by de shore leetle san'piper ronne--
De bullfrog he's gr-rompin' an' doré is jompin'
Dey all got deir own way for mak' it de fonne.

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 tam 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.

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.

W'en 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,
W'en 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 tam ago--

De boy an' de girl, dey was readin' 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.

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 isn'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 Brulé
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
W'en 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 Vaillancour'.

But nine o'clock strike, an' de chil'ren is sleepy,
Mese'f an' ole woman can't stay up no more
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 tam get awaken
Nex' day, she's so sleepy on bote of de eye.

Dat's wan of dem ting's, ev'ry tam on de fashion,
An' 'bout nices' t'ing dat was never be seen.
Got not'ing for say me--I spark it sam' way me
W'en 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 Sauvages.

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.

Pelang! Pelang! Mon cher garçon,
I t'ink of you--t'ink of you night and day--
Don't mak' no difference, seems to me
De long long tam you're gone away.

* * * * *

De snow is deep on de Grande Montagne--
Lak tonder 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 soirée come off
Dat's very sure t'ing you will see me dere.

Don't got too moche sense at all dat tam,
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' mariée on de church toute suite.

'W'en 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 fête of de jour de l'an,
An' de worl' outside is cole 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 Bonhomme
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.

I open de door, an' pass outside
For see mese'f how de night is look
An' de star is commence for go couché
De mountain also is put on hees tuque.

No sooner, I come on de house again
W'ere 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!

I t'ink, I t'ink of mon pauvre garçon,
Dat's out mebbe on de Grande Montagne;
So I place chandelle we're 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.

Dere was tam I am sure somet'ing 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 it's dead,
Wait till I go, an' de robin come,
An' den you will fin' hees cole, cole bed.'

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 fête of de jour de l'an,
Alone by mese'f I sit again,
W'ile 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 garçon!
I t'ink of you, t'ink of you night an' day,
Don't mak' no difference seems to me
How long de tam you was gone away.

De corduroy road go bompety bomp,
De corduroy road go jompety jomp,
An' he' s takin'beeg chances upset hees load
De horse dat 'll trot on de 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
W'en deystrek 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 tam 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 lan' 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'.

Yass de leetle Victorine was de nices' girl be-
tween
De town of Yamachiche an' Maskinongé,
But she's stuck up an' she's proud, an' you 'll
never count de crowd
Of de boy she geev' it w'at dey call de congé.

Ah! De moder spoil her sure, for even Joe
D'Amour
W'en he's ready nearly ev'ry t'ing to geev
her
If she mak' de mariée, 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 tam, an' never
pleasan'.

Wall, w'en he ax Ma-dame tak' de girl away
dat tam
See dem races on Sorel wit' all de trotter
De moder say 'All right if you bring her
home to-night
Before de cow'smilk, I let go, ma
daughter.'

So Victorin 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
Zephirin don't care
He's back it up hees own paroisse, ba golly,
An' he mak' it t'ree doll-arr w'en Maskinongé
Star
On de two mile heat was beatin' Sorel Molly.

Victorin 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 getting'
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'll be sorry if you hear de way she talk
dere,
So w'en I see de race on Sorel or any place
After dis, you may be sure I got to walk dere.'


Den he laugh dat Zephirin, an' he say 'Your
poor mama
I know de pile she t'ink about her daughter
So we'll tak' de sshort road back on de cor-
duroy 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 tam 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, 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 hol' 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-stayin'.

Den she's cryin', Victorine, for she's knowin'
w'at it mean
De parish dey was talkin' firse chances dey be
gettin',
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'.'

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 affer dat Hooraw! de man an' wife
dey're makin'.

Is 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
W'en 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
W 'at was he sayin' de nice young man
Smilin' upon hees face

W'en he got dat monee was all pure gole
Come down on your familee
For honder year an' mebbe more?
'Ma-dame you 're excusin' me,
But w'ere was you gettin' dis nice gole coin
Of Louis Quatorze, hees tam
Wit' hees face on back of dem ev 'ry wan?
For dey 're purty scase now, Ma-dam?'

An' you say 'Dat 's not'ing at all M'sieu
Ma familee get dem t'ing,
I suppose it's very long tam ago,
W'en 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'
W'en 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 lan'.

An'den de troub' is begin to show
W 'en our daughter poor Caroline
Sha 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
W'en 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,
W'en t'ousan' dollar will buil' fin' place
Up on de hill en haut.'

An' he talk about gallerie all aroun'
W'ere we sit on de summer night
Watchin' de star on de sky above
W'ile 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!

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 tam
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.

O! 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,
An' den let de horse eat de garden fence
Non! we don't enjoy dat so moche.

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.'
Baptême! w'en I'm seeing 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 tam 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' al de tam 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 chimney comin' out
No frien' stannin' dere-not wan.

You 'member too, w'en de fever come
An' ketch us wan winter day?
W'at he call de shaintee, our son-in-law,
Dat 's w'ere dey pass away
Xavier, Zoë. an' Euchariste
Our chil'ren wan, two, t'ree-
I offen t'ink of de room dey die,
An' I can't help cryin'-me.

So we 'll go on de ole house once again,
Long enough we been fool lak dis
Never min' w'at dey say bimeby, ma chere
But geeve 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!

I'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.

And so through the pleasant season, till the
days of October came
When children wrought 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 seignerie
of Vercheres,
Like the calm that so often cometh, ere the
hurricanes 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.

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 on 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 inocent ones.'

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 litle 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 'll fight to the latest breath
And if need be for God and country, die a
brave soldier's death.

'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 'll think out 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
Though 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.

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 friend!' cried the maiden, ' 't is
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' flames
Illuminated the powder-smoked face, 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.

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.

Was 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!
W'en Jeremie Plouffe, ma neighbor, come
over an' spik wit' me,
'Antoine, you will come on de city,
for hear Ma-dam All-ba-nee?'

'W'at 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.

'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,
before she is come mariée,
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.'

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 foreman
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
'Affer de 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.

Affer 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!
W'en 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'll 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!

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',
I t'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!

Den mebbe ten minute is passin', Ma-dam she is
comin' encore,
Dis tam 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 Français,'
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 tam 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!

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' Richelieu
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 tam,
Back to her own leetle rosebush she's comin
dere jus' de sam'.

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 'll come home, lak de bluebird,
an' again be de Chambly girl!

1 Venez ici, mon cher ami, an' sit down by me--so
2 An' I will tole you story of old tam long ago--
3 W'en ev'ryt'ing is happy--w'en all de bird is sing
4 An' me!--I'm young an' strong lak moose an' not afraid no t'ing.

5 I close my eye jus' so, an' see de place w'ere I am born--
6 I close my ear an' lissen to musique of de horn,
7 Dat 's horn ma dear ole moder blow--an only t'ing she play
8 Is 'viens donc vite Napoléon--'peche toi pour votre souper.'--

9 An' w'en he 's hear dat nice musique--ma leetle dog 'Carleau'
10 Is place hees tail upon hees back--an' den he 's let heem go--
11 He 's jomp on fence--he 's swimmin' crik--he 's ronne two forty gait,
12 He say 'dat 's somet'ing good for eat--Carleau mus' not be late.'

13 O dem was pleasure day for sure, dem day of long ago
14 W'en I was play wit' all de boy, an' all de girl also;
15 An' many tam w'en I 'm alone an' t'ink of day gone by
16 An' pull latire an' spark de girl, I cry upon my eye.

17 Ma fader an' ma moder too, got nice, nice familee,
18 Dat 's ten garçon an' t'orteen girl, was mak' it twenty t'ree
19 But fonny t'ing de Gouvernement don't geev de firs' prize den
20 Lak w'at dey say dey geev it now, for only wan douzaine.

21 De English peep dat only got wan familee small size
22 Mus' be feel glad dat tam dere is no honder acre prize
23 For fader of twelve chil'ren--dey know dat mus' be so,
24 De Canayens would boss Kebeck--mebbe Ontario.

25 But dat is not de story dat I was gone tole you
26 About de fun we use to have w'en we leev a chez nous
27 We 're never lonesome on dat house, for many cavalier
28 Come at our place mos' every night--especially Sun-day.

29 But tam I 'member bes' is w'en I 'm twenty wan year--me--
30 An' so for mak' some pleasement--we geev wan large soirée
31 De whole paroisse she be invite--de Curé he 's come too--
32 Wit plaintee peep from 'noder place--dat 's more I can tole you.

33 De night she 's cole an' freeze also, chemin she 's fill wit snow
34 An' on de chimley lak phantome, de win' is mak' it blow--
35 But boy an' girl come all de sam an' pass on grande parloir
36 For warm itself on beeg box stove, was mak' on Trois Rivières--

37 An' w'en Bonhomme Latour commence for tune up hees fidelle
38 It mak' us all feel very glad--l'enfant! he play so well,
39 Musique suppose to be firs' class, I offen hear, for sure
40 But mos' bes' man, beat all de res', is ole Bateese Latour--

41 An' w'en Bateese play Irish jeeg, he 's learn on Mattawa
42 Dat tam he 's head boss cook Shaintee--den leetle Joe Leblanc
43 Tak' hole de beeg Marie Juneau an' dance upon de floor
44 Till Marie say 'Excuse to me, I cannot dance no more.'--

45 An' den de Curé 's mak' de speech--ole Curé Ladouceur!
46 He say de girl was spark de boy too much on some cornerre--
47 An' so he 's tole Bateese play up ole fashion reel a quatre
48 An' every body she mus' dance, dey can't get off on dat.

49 Away she go--hooraw! hooraw! plus fort Bateese, mon vieux
50 Camille Bisson, please watch your girl--dat 's bes' t'ing you can do.
51 Pass on de right an' tak' your place Mamzelle Des Trois Maisons
52 You 're s'pose for dance on Paul Laberge, not Telesphore Gagnon.

53 Mon oncle Al-fred, he spik lak' dat--'cos he is boss de floor,
54 An' so we do our possibill an' den commence encore.
55 Dem crowd of boy an' girl I'm sure keep up until nex' day
56 If ole Bateese don't stop heseff, he come so fatigué.

57 An' affer dat, we eat some t'ing, tak' leetle drink also
58 An' de Curé, he 's tole story of many year ago--
59 W'en Iroquois sauvage she 's keel de Canayens an' steal deir hair,
60 An' say dat 's only for Bon Dieu, we don't be here--he don't be dere.

61 But dat was mak' de girl feel scare--so all de cavalier
62 Was ax hees girl go home right off, an' place her on de sleigh,
63 An' w'en dey start, de Curé say, 'Bonsoir et bon voyage
64 Menagez-vous--tak' care for you--prenez-garde pour les sauvages.'

65 An' den I go meseff also, an' tak' ma belle Elmire--
66 She 's nicer girl on whole Comté, an' jus' got eighteen year--
67 Black hair--black eye, an' chick rosée dat 's lak wan fameuse on de fall
68 But don't spik much--not of dat kin', I can't say she love me at all.

69 Ma girl--she's fader beeg farmeur--leev 'noder side St. Flore
70 Got five-six honder acre--mebbe a leetle more--
71 Nice sugar bush--une belle maison--de bes' I never see--
72 So w'en I go for spark Elmire, I don't be mak' de foolish me--

73 Elmire!--she 's pass t'ree year on school--Ste. Anne de la Perade
74 An' w'en she 's tak' de firs' class prize, dat 's mak' de ole man glad;
75 He say 'Ba gosh--ma girl can wash--can keep de kitchen clean
76 Den change her dress--mak' politesse before God save de Queen.'

77 Dey 's many way for spark de girl, an' you know dat of course,
78 Some way dey might be better way, an' some dey might be worse
79 But I lak' sit some cole night wit' my girl on ole burleau
8080 Wit' lot of hay keep our foot warm--an' plaintee buffalo--

81 Dat 's geev good chances get acquaint--an' if burleau upset
82 An' t'row you out upon de snow--dat 's better chances yet--
83 An' if you help de girl go home, if horse he ronne away
84 De girl she 's not much use at all--don't geev you nice baiser!

85 Dat 's very well for fun ma frien', but w'en you spark for keep
86 She 's not sam t'ing an' mak' you feel so scare lak' leetle sheep
87 Some tam you get de fever--some tam you 're lak snowball
88 An' all de tam you ack lak' fou--can't spik no t'ing at all.

89 Wall! dat 's de way I feel meseff, wit Elmire on burleau,
90 Jus' lak' small dog try ketch hees tail--roun' roun' ma head she go
91 But bimeby I come more brave--an' tak' Elmire she's han'
92 'Laisee-moi tranquille' Elmire she say 'You mus' be crazy man.'

93 'Yass--yass I say ' mebbe you t'ink I 'm wan beeg loup garou,
94 Dat 's forty t'ousand 'noder girl, I lef' dem all for you,
95 I s'pose you know Polique Gauthier your frien' on St. Cesaire
96 I ax her marry me nex' wick--she tak' me--I don't care.'

97 Ba gosh; Elmire she don't lak dat--it mak' her feel so mad--
98 She commence cry, say ''Poleon you treat me very bad--
99 I don't lak see you t'row you'seff upon Polique Gauthier,
100 So if you say you love me sure--we mak' de marieé'--

101 Oh it was fine tam affer dat--Castor I t'ink he know,
102 We 're not too busy for get home--he go so nice an' slow,
103 He 's only upset t'ree--four tam--an' jus' about daylight
104 We pass upon de ole man's place--an' every t'ing 's all right.

105 Wall! we leev happy on de farm for nearly fifty year,
106 Till wan day on de summer tam--she die--ma belle Elmire
107 I feel so lonesome lef' behin'--I tink 't was bes' mebbe--
108 Dat w'en le Bon Dieu tak' ma famme--he should not forget me.

109 But dat is hees biz-nesse ma frien'--I know dat 's all right dere
110 I 'll wait till he call ''Poleon' den I will be prepare--
111 An' w'en he fin' me ready, for mak' de longue voyage
112 He guide me t'roo de wood hesef upon ma las' portage.

You 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 'll 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
W'ere 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 Cap-
tinne Baribeau.

For she 's de fines' boat dat never was afloat
From de harbour 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.

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 'll 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 hol' your han', for so long as I
can stan'
I'll tak' de Rose Delima, an' sail her off to
sea.'

'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,
W'en 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 'll bring
de schooner home
Till she 's t'rowin' out her anchor on de port
of St. Simon.'

'Ha!Ha! ma Virginie, it is n'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
W'en I have some leetle talk wit' heem
mese'f.

'So call heem up de stair' : an' w'en he 's
stannin' 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.

'An' I know your fader well, he 's fine man
too, Noël,
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 my 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 'll come home, or ma nam' 's
not Pierre Guillaume
I swear by all de angel up above.'

So de wil' bird goin' out sout', see her shake de
canvas out,
An' soon de Rose Delima she 's flyin' 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.

Ho! ho! for Gaspé 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.

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' so he stay on boar', an' fifty girl or more
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
forget de girl.

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 tam, but travel jus' de
sam',
As de small bird w'en he 's flyin' on de even-
ing to hees nes'.

But her sail 's not blowin' out wit' de warm
breeze out 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
hol' her back-
She mebbe hear heem callin' her, ole Cap-
tinne Baribeau!

But we 're ketchin' it wan night w'en de star
go out of sight
For de storm dat 's waitin' for us, come be-
fore 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 De-
lima for 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.

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! a'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,
W'ere 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.

So we help heem all we can, kip de schooner
off de lan'
W'ere bad spirit work de current dat was
pullin' us inside-
But we fool dem all at las', an' we know de
danger 's pas'
W'en 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 wil' an' stormy wedder from St.
Pierre de Miquelon.

An' de leetle Virginie never look upon de sea
Since de tam 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.