Chapter 4

Comin' an' goin' mos' all de tam, Helpin' dem all along, Jus' lak de ole sheep watch de lamb Till dey are beeg an' strong-- Not'ing lak dat I be seein' yet, An' it 's hard to beat for sure-- She say: "Wit' de help of God, I s'pose; An' de leetle shop down stair."

Comin' an' goin' mos' all de tam, Helpin' dem all along, Jus' lak de ole sheep watch de lamb Till dey are beeg an' strong-- Not'ing lak dat I be seein' yet, An' it 's hard to beat for sure-- So dat 's de reason dey call Josette Leetle Sister of de poor.

Joe Boucher

Air--"Car si mon moine."

Joe Boucher was a frien' of mine, Joe Boucher was a happy man, Till he tell a young girl he 'd lak to fin' Some nice leetle wife for hees new cabane. Now he 's los' hees life too, All on account of de wife too, An' I know you 'll be sorry 'bout dat poor feller, I know you 'll be sorry for Joe Boucher.

De nam' dat girl she 's Azeel-daw, An' purty good worker, too, dey say-- She don't lose chance for a brave garçon, An' so she marry Joe Boucher. Now he 's los' hees life too, All on account of de wife too, An' I know you 'll be sorry 'bout dat poor feller, I know you 'll be sorry for Joe Boucher.

Den off on de wood poor Joe he lef', An' w'en he 's home wit' de bird in spring, An' fin' leetle feller jus' lak hese'f, Mebbe Joe don't dance an' Joe don't sing! Now he 's los' hees life too, All on account of hees wife too, An' I know you 'll be sorry 'bout dat poor feller, I know you 'll be sorry for Joe Boucher.

Dat 's all very well till de fall come along, An' Joe got to go on de bush encore, But w'en he come back he sing no song, For dere was two leetle baby more. Now he 's los' hees life too, All on account of de wife too, An' I know you 'll be sorry 'bout dat poor feller, I know you 'll be sorry for Joe Boucher.

He don't say not'ing, but he t'ink beeg lot, An' won't tak' a drink for two, t'ree day, But not moche money poor Joe he got, So off on de reever he 's goin' away. Now he 's los' hees life too, All on account of de wife too, An' I know you 'll be sorry 'bout dat poor feller, I know you 'll be sorry for Joe Boucher.

W'en May come along dat beau garçon He 's only gettin' anoder scare-- For he know by de smile on Azeel-daw She got t'ree fine new baby dere. Now he 's los' hees life too, All on account of de wife too, An' I know you 'll be sorry 'bout dat poor feller, I know you 'll be sorry for Joe Boucher.

So he kill hese'f dead, dat beau garçon He work so hard for de familee, An' he say, "Too bad, but Azeel-daw, I 'm sorry she marry poor man lak me." Now he 's los' hees life too, All on account of hees wife too, An' I know you 'll be sorry 'bout dat poor feller, I know you 'll be sorry for Joe Boucher.

Now I know very well dat all poor man He tak' some chance w'en he get marie, So he better look out all de bes' he can, Or he 'll be ketch lak Joe Boucher-- Now he 's los' hees life too, All on account of de wife too, An' I know you 'll be sorry 'bout dat poor feller, I know you 'll be sorry for Joe Boucher.

Charmette

Away off back on de mountain-side, Not easy t'ing fin' de spot, W'ere de lake below is long an' wide, A nice leetle place I got, Mebbe ten foot deep by twenty-two, An' if you see it, I bet You 'll not be surprise w'en I tole to you I chrissen dat place Charmette.

Dat 's purty beeg word, Charmette, for go On poor leetle house so small, Wit' only wan chimley, a winder or so, An' no galerie at all-- But I want beeg word, so de worl' will know W'at dat place it was mean to me, An' dere on de book of Jean Jacques Rousseau, Charmette is de nam' I see.

O ma dear Charmette! an' de stove is dere, (Good stove) an' de wood-pile too. An' stretch out your finger mos' anyw'ere, Dere 's plaintee for comfort you-- You 're hongry? wall! you got pork an' bean, Mak' you feel lak Edouard de King-- You 're torsty? Jus' look dere behin' de screen, An' mebbe you fin' somet'ing--

Ha! Ha! you got it. Ma dear Charmette. Dere 's many fine place, dat 's true, If you travel aroun' de worl', but yet W'ere is de place lak you? Open de door, don't kip it close-- W'at 's air of de mornin' for? Would you fassen de door on de win' dat blows Over God's own boulevard?

You see dat lake? Wall! I alway hate To brag--but she 's full of trout, So full dey can't jump togeder, but wait An' tak' deir chance, turn about-- An' if you be campin' up dere above, De mountain would be so high, Very offen de camp you 'd have to move, Or how can de moon pass by?

It 's wonderful place for sure, Charmette, An' ev'ry wan say to me-- I got all de pleasure de man can get 'Cept de wife an' de familee-- But somebody else can marry ma wife, Have de familee too also, W'at more do I want, so long ma life Was spare to me here below?

For we can't be happier dan we been Over twenty year, no siree! An' if ever de stranger come between De leetle Charmette an' me, Den all I can say is, kip out de way, For dynamite sure I 'll get, An' affer dat you can hunt all day For me an' ma dear Charmette.

Lac Souci

Talk about lakes! dere 's none dat lies in Laurentide mountain or near de sea, W'en de star 's gone off an' de sun is risin', Can touch w'at dey call it Lac Souci, Restin' dere wit' de woods behin' her, Sleepin' dere t'roo de summer night-- But watch her affer de mornin's fin' her, An' over de hill-top shine de light.

See w'ere de shadder sweep de water, Pine tree an' cloud, how dey come an' go; Careful now, an' you 'll see de otter Slidin' into de pool below-- Look at de loon w'en de breeze is ketch heem Shakin' hese'f as he cock de eye! Takes a nice leetle win' to fetch heem, So he 's gettin' a chance to fly.

Every bird dey mus' kip behin' heem W'en he 's only jus' flap de wing, Ah! dere he 's goin'--but never min' heem, For lissen de robin begin to sing-- Trout 's comin' up too!--dat 's beeg rise dere, Four of dem! Golly! it 's purty hard case, No rod here, an' dey 're all good size dere! Don't ax me not'ing about de place.

No use nobody goin' murder T'ree an' four pounder lak dat, siree! Wall! if you promise it won't go furder I 'll tole you nex' summer--bimeby--mebbe-- W'at is dat movin' among de spruce dere? Sure as I 'm livin' dere 's 'noder wan too-- Offen enough I 'm gettin' a moose dere, Non!--it 's only a couple of caribou.

Black duck so early? See how dey all come, Wan leetle family roun' de ben'-- Let dem enjoy it, wait till de fall come, Dey won't be feelin' so happy den! Smoke on de mountain? Yass, I can smell her-- Who is it now, Jean Bateese Boucher? Geev' me some tam, an' I 'll feex dat feller Shootin' de moose on de summer day.

W'at do you t'ink of a sapree beaver Hittin' hees tail on de lake dat way? Ought to be home wit' hees wife--not leave her Workin' away on de house all day-- Funny t'ing, too, how he alway fin' me Sailin' along on de ole canoe, Lookin' for sign--den bang! behin' me An' down on de water--dat's w'at he do.

Otter feeshin' an' bob cat cryin'-- Up on de sky de beeg black hawk-- Down on de swamp w'ere a dead log 's lyin', Pa'tridge doin' hees own cake-walk! If you never was see dem, hear dem-- Tak' leetle tour on de Lac Souci, An' w'enever you 're comin' near dem, You 're goin' crazy de sam' as me.

Talk about lakes of every nation, Talk about water of any kin', Don't matter you go over all creation-- De Lac Souci she can beat dem blin'. Happy to leev an' happy to die dere-- But Heaven itself won't satisfy me, Till I fin' leetle hole off on de sky dere W'ere I can be lookin' on Lac Souci!

Poirier's Rooster

"W'at's dat? de ole man gone, you say? Wall! Wall! he mus' be sick, For w'en he pass de oder day, He walk along widout de stick, Lak twenty year or so-- Fine healt'y man, ole Telesphore, I never see heem sick before, Some rheumateez, but not'ing more-- Please tell me how he go."

You 're right, no common t'ing for sure Is kill heem lak de res'; No sir! de man was voyageur Upon de Grande Nor' Wes' Until he settle here Is not de feller 's goin' die Before he 's ready by an' bye, So if you want de reason w'y I 'll tell you, never fear.

You know how moche he lak to spik An' tole us ev'ryt'ing about De way de French can alway lick An' pull de w'ole worl' inside out, Poor Telesphore Cadotte! He 's knowin' all de victory, An' braves' t'ing was never be, To hear heem talk, it 's easy see He 's firse-class patriot.

Hees leetle shoe store ev'ry night Can hardly hol' de crowd of folk Dat come to lissen on de fight, An' w'en you see de pile of smoke An' hear ole Telesphore Hammer de boot upon hees knee, You t'ink of course of Chateauguay, An' feel dat 's two, t'ree enemy Don't bodder us no more.

But oh! dat evening w'en he sen' De call aroun' for come en masse, An' den he say, "Ma dear ole frien', Dere 's somet'ing funny come to pass, I lak you all to hear-- You know dat Waterloo affair? H-s-s-h! don't get excite, you was n't dere-- All quiet? Wall! I 'll mak' it square, So lissen on your ear.

"I 'm readin' on de book to-day (Some book, dey say, was guarantee), An' half a dollar too I pay, But cheap, because it 's tellin' me De t'ing I 'm glad to know-- Of course de w'ole worl' understan' Napoleon fight de bes' he can, But he 's not French at all, dat man, But leetle small Da-go.

"Anoder t'ing was mak' it show Dere 's not'ing new below de sun, Is w'en I 'm findin' as I go-- Dat feller dey call Welling-ton, He 's English? No siree! But only maudit Irlandais! (Dat 's right! dey 're alway in de way, Dem Irish folk), an' so I say I 'm satisfy for me.

"It 's not our fault, dat 's all explain-- Dere 's no use talk of Waterloo, Not our affair--" an' off again He hammer, hammer on de shoe, An' don't say not'ing more, But w'issle "Madame Isabeau," Good news lak dat is cheer heem so-- Den tak' a drink before we go, De poor ole Telesphore!

An' now he 's gone! Wall! I dunno, Can't say--he 's better off meb-be, Don't work so hard on w'ere he go-- Dat 's wan t'ing sure I 'm t'inkin'--me-- Unless he los' hees track. But w'en dat boy come runnin' in De leetle shop, an' start begin On Poirier's rooster, how he win-- I lak to break hees back.

Poor Telesphore was tellin' how Joe Monferrand can't go to sleep, Until he 's kickin' up de row, Den pile dem nearly ten foot deep, Dem English sojer man-- Can't blame de crowd dey all hooraw, For bes' man on de Ottawaw, An' geev' t'ree cheer for Canadaw, De very bes' dey can.

An' Telesphore again he start For tell de story leetle more, Anoder wan before we part, W'en bang! a small boy t'roo de door On w'at you call "full pelt," Is yellin' till it reach de skies, "Poirier's rooster got de prize, Poirier's rooster got de prize, An' win de Champion belt!"

An' sure enough, he beat dem all, Joe Poirier's leetle red game bird, On beeges' show dey have dis fall,-- De Yankee rooster only t'ird An' Irish number two-- We hear a jump, an' Telesphore-- I never see de lak before-- He flap hees wing upon de floor An' cock a doodle doo!

Dat 's finish heem, he 's gone at las', An' never come aroun' again-- We 'll miss heem w'en we 're goin' pas', An' see no light upon de pane-- But pleasure we have got, We 'll kip it on de memory yet, An' dough of course we 'll offen fret, Dere 's wan t'ing sure, we 'll not forget Poor Telesphore Cadotte!

Dominique

You dunno ma leetle boy Dominique? Never see heem runnin' roun' about de place? 'Cos I want to get advice how to kip heem lookin' nice, So he won't be alway dirty on de face-- Now dat leetle boy of mine, Dominique, If you wash heem an' you sen' heem off to school, But instead of goin' dere, he was playin' fox an' hare-- Can you tell me how to stop de leetle fool?

"I 'd tak' dat leetle feller Dominique, An' I 'd put heem on de cellar ev'ry day, An' for workin' out a cure, bread an' water 's very sure, You can bet he mak' de promise not to play!"

Dat 's very well to say, but ma leetle Dominique W'en de jacket we put on heem 's only new, An' he 's goin' travel roun' on de medder up an' down, Wit' de strawberry on hees pocket runnin' t'roo, An' w'en he climb de fence, see de hole upon hees pant, No wonder hees poor moder 's feelin' mad! So if you ketch heem den, w'at you want to do, ma frien'? Tell me quickly an' before he get too bad.

"I 'd lick your leetle boy Dominique, I 'd lick heem till he 's cryin' purty hard, An' for fear he 's gettin' spile, I 'd geev' heem castor ile, An' I would n't let heem play outside de yard."

If you see ma leetle boy Dominique Hangin' on to poor ole "Billy" by de tail, W'en dat horse is feelin' gay, lak I see heem yesterday, I s'pose you t'ink he 's safer on de jail? W'en I 'm lightin' up de pipe on de evenin' affer work, An' de powder dat young rascal's puttin' in, It was makin' such a pouf, nearly blow me t'roo de roof-- W'at 's de way you got of showin' 't was a sin?

"Wall! I put heem on de jail right away, You may bet de wan is got de beeges' wall! A honder foot or so, w'ere dey never let heem go, Non! I would n't kip a boy lak dat at all."

Dat 's good advice for sure, very good, On de cellar, bread an' water--it 'll do, De nice sweet castor ile geev' heem ev'ry leetle w'ile, An' de jail to finish up wit' w'en he 's t'roo! Ah! ma frien', you never see Dominique, W'en he 's lyin' dere asleep upon de bed, If you do, you say to me, "W'at an angel he mus' be, An' dere can't be not'ing bad upon hees head."

Many t'ank for your advice, an' it may be good for some, But de reason you was geev' it is n't very hard to seek-- Yass! it 's easy seein' now w'en de talk is over, how You dunno ma leetle boy Dominique?

Home

"Oh! Mother the bells are ringing as never they rang before, And banners aloft are flying, and open is every door, While down in the streets are thousands of men I have never seen-- But friendly are all the faces--oh! Mother, what can it mean?"

"My little one," said the mother, "for many long, weary years-- Thro' days that the sunshine mocked at, and nights that were wet with tears, I have waited and watched in silence, too proud to speak, and now The pulse of my heart is leaping, for the children have kept the vow.

"And there they are coming, coming, the brothers you never knew, But, sightless, my ears would know them, so steady and firm and true Is the tramp of men whose fathers trod where the wind blows free, Over the heights of Queenston, and willows of Chateaugay.

"For whether it be a thousand, or whether a single man-- In the calm of peace, or battle, since ever the race began, No human eye has seen it--'t is an undiscovered clime, Where the feet of my children's fathers have not stepped and beaten time.

"The enemy at my threshold had boasted and jeered and cried-- 'The pledge of your offsprings' birthright your children have swept aside-- They cumber the land of strangers, they dwell in the alien's tent Till "home" is a word forgotten, and "love" but a bow unbent.

"'Planners and builders of cities (were ever such men as these?), Counsellors, guides, and moulders of the strangers' destinies-- Conquerors, yet are they conquered, and this is the word and sign, You boast of their wise seed-sowing, but the harvest they reap is mine.'

"Ah! little the stranger knew me--this mocking but friendly foe, The youngest mother of nations! how could the stranger know The faith of the old grey mother,--her sorrows and hopes and fears? Let her speak when her sons are tested, like mine, for a thousand years!

"Afar in the dim savanna when the dawn of the spring is near, What is it wakes the wild goose, calling him loud and clear? What is it brings him homeward, battered and tempest-torn? Are they weaker than birds of passage, the children whom I have borne?

"Nay! the streets of the city tremble with the tread that shakes the world, When the sons of the blood foregather, and the mother flag flies unfurled-- Brothers are welcoming brothers, and the voices that pierce the blue Answer the enemy's taunting--and the children of York are true!

"Wanderers may be, traitors never! By the scroll of their fathers' lives! The faith of the land that bore them, and the honour of their wives! We may lose them, our own strong children, blossom and root and stem-- But the cradle will be remembered, and home is aye home to them!"

Canadian Forever

When our fathers crossed the ocean In the glorious days gone by, They breathed their deep emotion In many a tear and sigh-- Tho' a brighter lay before them Than the old, old land that bore them And all the wide world knows now That land was Canada.

So line up and try us, Whoever would deny us The freedom of our birthright And they 'll find us like a wall-- For we are Canadian--Canadian forever, Canadian forever--Canadian over all.

Our fathers came to win us This land beyond recall-- And the same blood flows within us Of Briton, Celt, and Gaul-- Keep alive each glowing ember Of our sireland, but remember Our country is Canadian Whatever may befall.

So line up and try us, Whoever would deny us The freedom of our birthright And they 'll find us like a wall-- For we are Canadian, Canadian forever, Canadian forever---Canadian over all.

Who can blame them, who can blame us If we tell ourselves with pride How a thousand years to tame us The foe has often tried-- And should e'er the Empire need us, She'll require no chains to lead us, For we are Empire's children-- But Canadian over all.

Then line up and try us, Whoever would deny us The freedom of our birthright And they 'll find us like a wall-- For we are Canadian, Canadian forever, Canadian forever--Canadian over all!

Twins

I congratulate ye, Francis, And more power to yer wife-- An' from Montreal to Kansas, I could safely bet my life Ye wor proud enough, I hould ye-- Runnin' with the safety pins Whin ould Mrs. Dolan tould ye, "Milia murther! she has twins!"

Ye might kill me without warnin'-- Lay me out there on the shelf-- For a sight of ye that mornin', Throwin' bookays at yerself! Faix! ye thought ye had a cinch there, An' begob! so well ye might, For not even with the Frinch there, Twins like thim come every night!

Francis, aisy now an' listen To yer mother's brother James-- Whin the twins ye go to christen, Don't ye give thim fancy names-- Irene--Edith--Gladys--Mavis-- Cecil Rhodes an' Percival-- If it 's names like that, Lord save us! Don't live close to the canal!

Michael Whalen of St. Lambert Had a boy some years ago-- Called him Clarence Montizambert-- Where he got it I dunno-- Monty used to have a brother (_He_ was Marmaduke Fitzjames), Killed himself some way or other Thryin' to pronounce his names!

Bet was three times in a minute, An' he thrained hard for the same, But the lad was never in it-- Tho' they tell me he died game! Well, sir!--Monty grew the height of Fin McCool or Brian Boru-- Truth I 'm tellin', but in spite of Ev'rything poor Mike could do--

Divil a dacint situation Monty got, but dhrive a hack, At the Bonaventure station-- 'T was the name that kept him back-- Till his friend, John Reilly, tould him, "Change the haythen name for Pat--" Pathrick Joseph--now behould him Walkin' dillygate! think o' that! So be careful, Master Francis, An' ye 'll bless yer uncle James-- Don't be takin' any chances With thim God-forsaken names!

Keep Out of the Weeds

No smarter man you can never know W'en I was a boy, dan Pierre Nadeau, An' quiet he 's too, very seldom talk, But got an eye lak de mountain hawk, See all aroun' heem mos' ev'ryw'ere, An' not many folk is foolin' Pierre.

Offen I use to be t'inkin'--me-- How on de worl' it was come to be He know so moche, w'en he never go On college or school, ole Pierre Nadeau, Feesh on de reever de summer t'roo, An' trap on de winter--dat 's all he do.

"Hi! boy--Hi! put your book away, An' come wit' your uncle Pierre to-day, Ketch hol' of de line an' hang on tight, An' see if your moder won't cook to-night Some nice fresh feesh for de familee," Many a tam he was say to me--

An' den I 'm quiet, too scare to spik, Wile Pierre he paddle me down de crick, Easy an' nice he mak' her go Close to de shore w'ere de bulrush grow, W'ere de pike an' de beeg feesh lak to feed, Deir nose stickin' out w'ere you see de weed--

"Lissen, ma boy," say Pierre Nadeau, "To some of de t'ing you ought to know: Kip a lookout on de hook an' line, In case dey 're gettin' too far behin'; For it 's purty hard job know w'at to do, If de reever weed 's ketchin' hol' of you.

"But if you want feesh, you mus' kip leetle close, For dat 's w'ere de beeg feller come de mos', Not on de middle w'ere water 's bare, But near to de rushes over dere, 'Cos dat was de spot dey alway feed-- All de sam' you got to look out for weed.

"Ho! Ho! a strike! let heem have it now-- Gosh! ain't he a'kickin' heem up de row, Pullin' so hard, never min', ma son, W'en he go lak dat he was nearly done, But he 's all right now, so don't be afraid, Jus' hit heem again wit' de paddle blade.

"Yass! over an' over, it 's good advice, An' me, I know, for I pay de price On w'at you call compoun' interes' too, For larnin' de lesson I geev' to you, Close as you lak, but, ma boy, tak' heed You don't run into de beeg long weed.

"An' by an' by w'en you 're growin' up, An' mebbe drink of de black, black cup Of trouble an' bodder an' dunno w'at, You 'll say to you'se'f, 'Wall! I forgot De lesson ole Pierre he know I need,' W'en he say to me, 'Boy, look out for weed'--

"For de worl 's de sam' as de reever dere, Plaintee of weed lyin' ev'ryw'ere, But work aroun' or your life is gone, An' tak' some chance or you won't get on, For if you don't feesh w'ere de weed is grow, You 'll only ketch small leetle wan or so--

"Dere 's no use sayin', 'I 'll wait an' see If some of dem feesh don't come to me, I 'll stay outside, for it 's pleasan' here, W'ere de water 's lookin' so nice an' clear,' Dat 's way you 'll never get w'at you need-- Keep feeshin' away, but look out for weed."

* * * *