The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems | Page 5

William Henry Drummond
don't be mak' de foolish me--
Elmire!--she's pass t'ree year on school--Ste. Anne de la Perade An' w'en she's tak' de firs' class prize, dat's mak' de ole man glad; He say "Ba gosh--ma girl can wash--can keep de kitchen clean Den change her dress--mak' politesse before God save de Queen."
Dey's many way for spark de girl, an' you know dat of course, Some way dey might be better way, an' some dey might be worse But I lak' sit some cole night wit' my girl on ole burleau?Wit' lot of hay keep our foot warm--an' plaintee buffalo--
Dat's geev good chances get acquaint--an' if burleau upset?An' t'row you out upon de snow--dat's better chances yet--?An' if you help de girl go home, if horse he ronne away?De girl she's not much use at all--don't geev you nice baiser!
Dat's very well for fun ma frien', but w'en you spark for keep She's not sam t'ing an' mak' you feel so scare lak' leetle sheep Some tam you get de fever--some tam you're lak snowball?An' all de tam you ack lak' fou--can't spik no t'ing at all.
Wall! dat's de way I feel meseff, wit Elmire on burleau,?Jus' lak' small dog try ketch hees tail--roun' roun' ma head she go But bimeby I come more brave--an' tak' Elmire she's han'?"Laisse-moi tranquille" Elmire she say "You mus' be crazy man."
"Yass--yass," I say, "mebbe you t'ink I'm wan beeg loup garou, Dat's forty t'ousand 'noder girl, I lef' dem all for you,?I s'pose you know Polique Gauthier your frien'on St. Cesaire I ax her marry me nex' wick--she tak' me--I don't care."
Ba gosh; Elmire she don't lak dat--it mak' her feel so mad-- She commence cry, say "'Poleon you treat me very bad--?I don't lak see you t'row you'seff upon Polique Gauthier,?So if you say you love me sure--we mak' de mariée."--
Oh it was fine tam affer dat--Castor I t'ink he know,?We're not too busy for get home--he go so nice an' slow,?He's only upset t'ree--four tam--an' jus' about daylight?We pass upon de ole man's place--an' every t'ing's all right.
Wall! we leev happy on de farm for nearly fifty year,?Till wan day on de summer tam--she die--ma belle Elmire?I feel so lonesome lef' behin'--I tink 'twas bes' mebbe--?Dat w'en le Bon Dieu tak' ma famme--he should not forget me.
But dat is hees biz-nesse ma frien'--I know dat's all right dere I'll wait till he call "'Poleon" den I will be prepare--?An' w'en he fin' me ready, for mak' de longue voyage?He guide me t'roo de wood hesef upon ma las' portage.
"DE PAPINEAU GUN."
AN INCIDENT OF THE CANADIAN REBELLION OF 1837.
Bon jour, M'sieu'--you want to know?'Bout dat ole gun--w'at good she's for??W'y! Jean Bateese Bruneau--mon pere,?Fight wit' dat gun on Pap'neau War!
Long tam since den you say--C'est vrai,?An' me too young for 'member well,?But how de patriot fight an' die,?I offen hear de ole folk tell.
De English don't ack square dat tam,?Don't geev de habitants no show,?So 'long come Wolfred Nelson?Wit' Louis Joseph Papineau.
An' swear de peep mus' have deir right.?Wolfred he's write Victoriaw,?But she's no good, so den de war?Commence among de habitants.
Mon pere he leev to Grande Brulé?So smarter man you never see,?Was alway on de grande hooraw!?Plaintee w'at you call "Esprit!"
An' w'en dey form wan compagnie?All dress wit' tuque an' ceinture sash?Ma fader tak' hees gun wit' heem?An' marche away to Saint Eustache,
W'ere many patriots was camp?Wit' brave Chenier, deir Capitaine,?W'en 'long come English Generale,?An' more two t'ousan' sojer man.
De patriot dey go on church?An' feex her up deir possibill;?Dey fight deir bes', but soon fin' out?"Canon de bois" no good for kill.
An' den de church she come on fire,?An' burn almos' down to de groun',?So w'at you t'ink our man can do?Wit' all dem English armee roun'?
'Poleon, hees sojer never fight?More brave as dem poor habitants,?Chenier, he try for broke de rank?Chenier come dead immediatement.
He fall near w'ere de cross is stan'?Upon de ole church cimitiere,?Wit' Jean Poulin an' Laframboise?An' plaintee more young feller dere.
De gun dey rattle lak' tonnere?Jus' bang, bang, bang! dat's way she go,?An' wan by wan de brave man's fall?An' red blood's cover all de snow.
Ma fader shoot so long he can?An' den he's load hees gun some more,?Jomp on de ice behin' de church?An' pass heem on de 'noder shore.
Wall! he reach home fore very long?An' keep perdu for many day,?Till ev'ry t'ing she come tranquille,?An' sojer man all gone away.
An' affer dat we get our right,?De Canayens don't fight no more,?Ma fader's never shoot dat gun,?But place her up above de door.
An' Papineau, an' Nelson too?Dey're gone long tam, but we are free,?Le Bon Dieu have 'em 'way up dere.?Salut, Wolfred! Salut, Louis!
HOW BATEESE CAME HOME.
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
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