Chapter 2

Some of dem ban rich men's boys, Who ban having planty toys, Vearing nicest clo'es in town, Lak dis little Buster Brown. Don't yu care! Ven dey grow up, And ban shining at pink tea, Drenking tea from china cup, Yu skol give dem loud tee-hee. Yu skol laugh at dis har mob Ven dey come to yu for yob. Barefoot boy, yu ant got cent; But ay tal yu dis, some day Yu got chance for president Ef dese woters com yure vay. Yust keep vistling all day long, Yust keep senging little song, And ef yu skol alvays love Some one who ban op above, Who ban making day and night, He skol fix yu out all right.

FATHER WILLIAM

"Yu ban old, Fader Olaf," a young geezer say, "yure hair it ban whiter sum snow; Ay lak yu to tal me how yu keep so young. By Yudas! Ay ant hardly know."

"Ven ay ban a young kid," Fader Olaf he say, "ay never hang out in saloon; Ay never ban smoking dese har cigarettes, or sitting on sofa and spoon!"

"Yu ban slim, Fader Olaf," the young faller say: "old fallers ban mostly dam fat. Yu measure 'bout tventy-sax inches reund vaist, vat for ban the reason of dat?"

"In the days of my youth," Fader Olaf reply, "ay ant drenk no lager from cup; Ay let all my frends fight dis bourbon and rye, and alvays pass breakfast fude up!"

"Fader Olaf, yure eyes ban so bright sum a star, yu ant vear no glasses at all; Ay lak yu to tal me gude reason for dis; ay hope yu don't give me no stall."

"All the days of my life," Fader Olaf den say, "ay never ban going to shows, And straining my eyes vatching dese chorus girls vich ant veering wery much clo'es!"

Den young faller say, "Fader Olaf, ay tenk yu ban full of yinger, old pal; But yu had to be missing gude times all yure life, so ay skol keep on raising hal!"

ABOU SWEN ANSON

Abou Swen Anson (he ban yolly dog) Ban asleep von night so sound lak log, Ven all at vonce he tenk it sure ban day. "Ay skol vake op now," Maester Anson say. But, ven he vake, it ant ban day at all, He see a gude big light right close to vall, And dar ban anyel faller vith stub pen. "Gude morning, maester anyel man," say Swen. "Ay s'pose," he tal the anyel, "yu ban har To pay me wisit. Skol yu have cigar?" The anyel shake his head, and Abou Swen Ask him: "Val, Maester, vy yu com har den? Vat skol yu write in dis har book of gold?" The anyel say, "All fallers, young and old, Who go to church and prayer-meeting, tu; But ay ant got a place in har for yu." "Ay s'pose," say Abou, "yu got noder book For common lumberyacks vich never took Flyer at church or dis har Sunday-school, But yust try hard to keeping Golden Rule. Ef yu got dis book, Maester, put me in!" Den anyel look at Abou, and he grin. "Abou," he say, "shak hands. Yu talk qvite free But, yiminy Christmas, yu look gude to me!"

MAUD MULLER

Maude Muller, on nice summer day, Raked in meadows sveet vith hay.

Her eyes ban sharp lak gude sharp knife; She ban nice girl, ay bet yure life.

Before she ban dar wery long, She start to senging little song.

The Yudge come riding down big hill In nice red yumping ottomobill.

Maude say, "Hello, Yudge,--how ban yu?" The Yudge say, "Maudie, how y' du?" He say: "Skol yu tak little ride? Ef yu skol lak to, yump inside."

So Maude and Yudge ride 'bout sax miles, And Yudge skol bask in Maude's sveet smiles.

The Yudge say, "Skol yu be my pal?" Den ottomobill bust all to hal.

Den Maude ban valking 'bout half vay Back to meadows sveet vith hay.

"Ay luv yu still, dear," say the Yudge, But Maude she only say, "O fudge!"

Of all sad vords dat men skol talk, The saddest ban, "Valk, yu sucker, valk!"

LUCY GRAY

Ay s'pose yu know 'bout Lucy Gray Who used to play on moor, And having qvite gude time all day Beside her fader's door.

Dis Maester Vordsvorth write it down, Gude many years ago, How Lucy start to valk to town In gude big drifts of snow.

"Lucy," her fader say, "yust tak Dis lantern from the shelf." Say Lucy, "Ay have kick to mak; Vy don't yu go yureself?"

But Lucy's dad ant stand no talk, And say, "Yu have to go!" So Lucy Gray tak little valk To town in dis har snow.

Miss Lucy ant come back dat night, And ant come back next day; And den her parents get gude fright. "Our kid ban lost!" dey say.

Dey look for tracks vich Lucy mak, And find some tracks dat go Up to a bridge on little lake, And den ban lost in snow.

And so dey tenk Miss Gray ban lost, And feeling purty bum. The funeral saxty dollars cost, And all the neighbors com.

But Lucy ant ban lost at all. She met a travelling man. He ban a bird. His name ban Hall, And off for town dey ran.

And Maester Hall and Lucy Gray Ban married in St. Yo, And dey ban keeping house to-day In Kansas City, Mo.

STEALING A RIDE

Yumping over crossings, Bumping over svitches, Till ay tenk dis enyine Going to fall in ditches; Hiding vith some cattle, Ay tenk 'bout saxty-eight; Yiminy! Dis ban yolly,-- Stealing ride on freight

Ay ban yust tru treshing Op in Nort Dakota; Now ay guess ay'm going Back to old Mansota. Now dis train ban stopping, 'Bout sax hours to vait; Yiminy! Dis ban yolly,-- Stealing ride on freight.

Ay skol stretch a little Yust to tak a sleep; Den my head bump into Gude big fader sheep. Yee! His head ban harder Sum a china plate; Dis ban yolly doings,-- Stealing ride on freight.

Yumping over crossings, Bumping over svitches, Till my side ban getting Saxty-seven stitches. Ay hear brakeman faller Say, "Yust ten hours late!" It ban hal, ay tal yu, Stealing ride on freight.

"CURFEW SHALL NOT RING TO-NIGHT"

England's sun ban slowly setting on big hilltops far avay; Dis bar sun ban tired of standing, so it lak to set, yu say; And yust ven dis sun ban setting, it shine hard on Yosephine; She ban talking to the sexton, and ban feeling purty mean. "Now," she tal him, "yust be careful,... ay skol fix it op all right; Yust one teng ay lak to tal yu, Curfew skol not reng to-night!"

Val, the sun yust keep on setting, and the sexton start for bell. "Vait a minute!" Yosie tal him; sexton answer, "Vat to 'ell?" "Val," she say, "ay having sveetheart who ban over har in yail, Ay ban vorking hard for money, nuff so ay can pay his bail; But it ant no use to du it, and dis har old yudge skol write That he dies ven bell start going. Curfew skol not reng to-night!"

Den, yu say, dis maester sexton, he can't hearing Yosephine; He ban vork in boiler factory ven he ban about saxteen, And it mak him deaf lak blazes. So he go and grabbing rope; But Miss Yosephine ant qvitter, she ant losing any hope. No, sir! she run op in bell tower, yust so fast sum she can run, And she tak gude hold on bell tongue, and hang on lak son of a gun.

Maester sexton, he keep renging, but dis bell ant reng, yu say; For Miss Yosephine ban op dar; she ant ban no country yay. Ay yust bet yu she get groggy, for her yob ban purty tough; But the bell don't "dingle dangle," it ant even making bluff. "Val, by yinger!" say the sexton, "dis har rope ban awful tight." Yosephine look down, and tal him, "Curfew skol not reng to-night!"

Purty soon it ban all over. Sexton, he ban start for town, And Miss Yosie rest a minute, den ay s'pose she coming down. Anyhow, she go next morning for gude talk vith some poleece, And she yolly Maester Cromwell--he ban Yustice of the Peace. "Gude for yu," say Maester Cromwell, "ay skol let him live, all right: Yust because yu fule dis sexton--curfew skol not reng to-night!"

A PSALM OF LIFE

Tal me not, yu knocking fallers, Life ban only empty dream; Dar ban planty fun, ay tal yu, Ef yu try Yohn Yohnson's scheme. Yohn ban yust a section foreman, Vorking hard vay up on Soo; He ban yust so glad in morning As ven all his vork ban tru.

"Vork," say Yohn, "ban vat yu mak it. Ef yu tenk yure vork ban hard, Yu skol having planty headaches,-- Yes, yu bet yure life, old pard; But ay alvays yerk my coat off, Grab my shovel and my pick, And dis yob ant seem lak hard von Ef ay du it purty qvick."

Yohn ban foreman over fallers. He ant have to vork, yu see; But, yu bet, he ant no loafer, And he yust digs in, by yee! "Listen, Olaf," he skol tal me, "Making living ant no trick. And the hardest yob ban easy Ef yu only du it qvick!"

"Let us den be op and yumping, Always glad to plow tru drift; Ven our vork ban done, den let us Give some oder faller lift. Den, ay bet yu, old Saint Peter, He skol tenk ve're purty slick; Ve can go tru gates, ay bet yu, Ef ve only du it qvick!"

ANNIE LAURIE

Minneapolis ban qvite bonny Ven early fall the dew; It ban dar dat ay ask Steena To mak her promise true,-- To mak her promise true; But she yust pass me by; And she tal me, "Maester Olaf, Yu skol pleese lay down and die."

Her brow ban yust lak snowdrift Or Apple Blossom flour; And she smile lak anyel fallers, Ay tenk of her each hour,-- Ay tenk of her each hour, And feel lak ay can cry, Ven she tal me, "Maester Olaf, Yu skol pleese lay down and die."

Like dew on sidevalk falling, She du me gude, ay guess. Ay tal her, "Pleese, Miss Steena, Vy don't yu answer yes?-- Vy don't yu answer yes?" But she yust venk her eye, And she tal me, "Maester Olaf, Yu skol pleese lay down and die."

THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE

Yoyfully, yoyfully, Yoyfully onvard, In dis har walley of death Rode the sax hundred! It ban a cinch, ay tenk, Some geezer blundered. "Hustle, yu Light Brigade! Yump!" Maester Olson said; Den in the walley of death Go the sax hundred.

Cannon on right of dem, Cannon on left of dem, Cannon on top of dem, Wolleyed and t'undered; Smashed vith dis shot and shal, Dey ant do wery val; Most of dem ketching hal,-- Nearly sax hundred!

Yes, all dem sabres bare Flash purty gude in air; Each faller feel his hair Standing. No vonder! Yudas! It ant ban yob For any coward slob, Fighting dis Russian mob. Ay tenk ay vudn't stand Yeneral's blunder.

Cannon on right of dem, Cannon on top of dem, Cannon behind dem, tu, Wolleyed and t'undered. Finally say Captain Brenk, "Ve got enuff, ay tenk, Let's go and getting drenk." 'Bout tventy-sax com back Out of sax hundred.

Ven skol deir glory fade? It ban gude charge dey made, Every von vondered. Every von feeling blue, 'Cause dey ban brave old crew, Yolly gude fallers, tu, Dis har sax hundred!

EXCELSIOR

The shades of night ban falling fast, Ven tru Dakota willage passed Young faller who skol carry flag And yell, so loud sum he can brag, "Excelsior!"

Ay ant know yust vat he skol mean, But yust lak dis har talk machine He keep on saying, night and day (Ay s'pose to passing time avay), "Excelsior!"

Swen Swenson tal me dis har guy Ban crazy; den he tal me why. He say dis faller once ban gay And happy; den he never say "Excelsior!"

But after while, say Sven, he meet A chorus girl who look quite sveet, And marry her, and den find out Vat making her so plump and stout-- "Excelsior!"

So now poor faller have to go, Lak lunatic, tru ice and snow. He tenk about his old girl May, And dis ban all vich he can say-- "Excelsior!"

MORTALITY

Vat for should dis spirit of mortal ban proud? Man valk round a minute, and talk purty loud; Den doctor ban coming, and say, "Ay can't save." And man have to tak running yump into grave.

To-day dis har faller ban svelling around, His head ban so light dat his feet ant touch ground. To-morrow he light vith his face in the sand, And hustle lak hal to get gude helping hand.

Ay see lots of fallers who tenk dey ban vise, Yu see dem yureself ef yu open yure eyes; Dey tal 'bout the gold dey skol making some day, And yump ven the vash-voman com for her pay.

Ay tal yu, dear frend, purty sune we ban dead, So ay tenk we ban suckers to getting svelled head. It ant wery far from Prince Albert to shroud; Vat for should dis spirit of mortal ban proud?

THE DAY IS DONE

The day ban done, and darkness Falling from vengs of night, Lak fedder flying from ruster, Ven he ban having fight. Ay see the lights of willage Shining tru rain and mist, And ay skol feel dam sleepy, Lak fallers playing whist.

Come, read tu me some werses, Ay ant care vat yu read, Yust so it ant 'bout trouble Or hearts vich ache and bleed. Ay lak dese har nice yingles 'Bout sun and trees and grass; But, ven it com to heartache, Yerusalem! ay skol pass!

Read from some humble geezer, Whose songs ban sveet to hear-- Who making, from his poetry, 'Bout saxteen cents a year. Ay lak to hear his yingles, Ay tell yu, dey ban fine; Dis har ban vy ay lak dem-- Dey ban so much lak mine.

Such songs have gude, nice sound-- Dey making sorrow fly; Dey coming lak glass of seltzer Vich follows drenk of rye. And night skol be full of music, And tengs we lak to forget Skol fold op tents lak yipsies, And sneaking avay, yu bet!

End of Project Gutenberg's The Norsk Nightingale, by William F. Kirk