William Henry Drummond

I've told you many a tale, my child, of the   old heroic
Of Indian wars and massacre, of villages
With savage torch, from Ville Marie to the   Mission of Trois
But never have I told you yet, of Madeleine   Vercheres.

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…

OU bad leetle boy, not moche you
How busy you're kipin' your poor
Tryin to stop you ev'ry
Chasin' de hen aroun' de hay—W'y don't you geev' dem a chance to lay?

I'm poor man, me, but I buy las' May Wan horse on de Comp'nie Passengaire,
An' auction feller w'at sole heem say She's out of de full-breed "Messengaire."Good trotter stock, also galluppe, But work long tam on de city car,
Of…

I know very well t'was purty hard
If dere 's not on de worl' some beeger
Dan village of Cote St.
Paul

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
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…

Dere 'a s beeg jam up de reever, w'ere rapide is runnin' fas',
An' de log we cut las' winter is takin' it all de room;
So boss of de gang is swearin', for not'ing at all can pass
An' float away down de current till somebody break de…

Oor fader lef' ole France behin', dat's
many year ago,
An' how we get along since den, wall! ev'ry
body know

Victoriaw: she have beeg war,
E-gyp's de nam' de place--An' neeger peep dat's leev 'im dere, got very black de face,
An' so she's write Joseph Mercier, he's stop on Trois Rivieres--"Please come right off, an' bring wit' you t'ree…

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.

AL'
LL     —Donal' Bane—sailed away across the
With the tartans of Clan
Gordon, to the Indies'

On wan dark night on Lac St.
Pierre,
De win' she blow, blow, blow,
An' de crew of de wood scow "Julie Plante"

O Ma ole canoe! w'at's matter wit' you, an' w'y was you be so slow?
Don 't I work hard enough on de paddle, an' still you don 't seem to go-No win' at all on de fronte side, an' current she don 't be strong,
Den w'y are you lak lazy…

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
But you know w'en he sing, de sout' win' Is…

De win' is sleepin' in de pine, but O! de night is black!
An' all day long de loon bird cry on Lac Waya- gamack-No light is shinin' by de shore for helpin' steer heem t'rooW'en out upon de night,
Ubalde he tak' de red canoe.
I hear…

Here's to you,
Uncle Kruger! slainté!
an' slainté galore.
You 're a dacint ould man, begorra; never

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 singI hear de cry of de winter win', for de storm- gate 's open
But I don't care not'ing for win'or storm, so…

W'en I was young boy on de farm, dat 's twenty year ago
I have wan frien' he 's leev near me, call Jean Bateese Trudeau
An offen w'en we are alone, we lak for spik about
De tam w'en we was come beeg man, wit' moustache on our…

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
For dead man w'en he 's dead for sure, Ain't good for not'ing at
An' he 'll stay on de place you put heem…

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…

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'…

RD á Plouffe,
Bord á Plouffe,
W'at do I see  w'en I dream of you?
A shore w'ere de water is racin' by

De cloud is hide de moon, but dere's plain-
tee light above,
Steady Johnnie, steady—kip your head down
low

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…