Johnnie Courteau

Johnnie Courteau of de mountain
Johnnie Courteau of de hill
Dat was de boy can shoot de gun
Dat was de boy can jomp an' run
An'it's not very often you ketch heem still
Johnnie Courteau !

Ax dem along de reever
Ax dem along de shore
Who was de mos'bes'fightin'man
From Managance to Shaw-in-I-gan?
De place we're de great beeg rapide roar,
Johnnie Courteau !

Sam'tíng on ev'ry shaintee
Up on de Mekinac
Who was the man man walk de log,
W'en w'ole of de reever she's black wit'fog
An'carry de beeges'load on hees back?
Johnnie Courteau !

On de rapide you want to see heem
If de raf'she 's swingin'roun'
An'he 's yellin' "Hooray Bateese! good
man!"
W'y de oar come double on hees han'
W'en he's makin' dat raf'go flyin'down
Johnnie Courteau !

An' Tête de Boule chief can tole you
De feller w'at save hees life
W'en beeg moose on de head, sapree!
An'den run off wit' hees Injun wife?
Johnnie Courteau !

An' he only have pike pole wit'heem
On Lac a la Tortue
W'en he meet de bear comin' down the hill
But de bear very soon is get hees fill!
An' he sole dat skin for ten dollar too,
Johnnie Courteau !


Oh he never was scare for not'ing
Lak de ole coureurs de bois,
But w'en he's getting'hees winter pay
De bes't'ing sure is kip out de way
For he's goin'right off on de Hip Hooraw!
Johnnie Courteau !

Den pullin'hees sash aroun'heem
He dance on hees botte sauvage
An'shout"All aboar' if you want to fight!"
Wall! You never can see de finer sight
W'en he go lak dat on de w'ole village!
Johnnie Courteau !

But Johnnie Courteauget marry
On Philomene Beaurepaire
She's nice leetle girl was run de school
On w'at you call Parish of Sainte Ursule
An' he see her off on de pique-nique dere
Johnnie Courteau !

Den somet'ing come over Johnnie
W'en he marry on Philomene
For he stay on de farm de w'ole year roun'
He chop de wood an' he plough de ground'
An' he's quieter feller was never seen,
Johnnie Courteau !

An'ev'ry wan feel astonish
From La Tuque to Shaw-in-i-gan
W'en dey hear de news was goin' aroun'
Along on de reever up an' down
How wan leetle woman boss dat beeg man
Johnnie Courteau !


He never come out on de evening
No matter de hard we try
'Cos he stay on de kitchen an' sing hees song

"A la claire fontaine
M'en allant promener
J'ai trouvé l'eau si belle
Que je m'y suis baigner
Lui y'a longtemps que je t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai."

Rockin' de cradle de w'ole night long
Till baby's asleep on de sweet bimeby
Johnnie Courteau !


An'de house, wall!I wish you see it
De place she's so nice an' clean
Mus'wipe your foot on de outside door,
You're dead man sure ifyou spit on de floor,
An' he neversay not'ing on Philomene
Johnnie Courteau !


An' Philomene watch de monee
An' put it all safe away
On very good place; I dunno w'ere
But anyhow nobody see it dere
So she's buyin' new farm de noder day
MADAME Courteau !

William Henry Drummond

William Henry Drummond was a Canadian poet, best known for his humor-filled verse that captured the dialect and lifestyle of French Canadian habitants. Born on April 13, 1854, in Ireland, he immigrated to Canada during his childhood. Drummond pursued a career in medicine but garnered fame for his poetry, which was rich with character and wit. He passed away on April 6, 1907, leaving behind a cherished legacy in Canadian literature.

William Henry Drummond

Little Bateese

William Henry Drummond, Simple Poetry

De Stove Pipe Hole

William Henry Drummond, Simple Poetry

Le Vieux Temps

William Henry Drummond, Simple Poetry

The Red Canoe

William Henry Drummond, Simple Poetry

English

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The Old House And The New

Is it only twelve mont' I play de fool,
You're sure it 'scorrec' , 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'fI'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 ow...

William Henry Drummond

De Camp On De "Cheval Gris"

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 st...

William Henry Drummond

De Habitant

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...

William Henry Drummond

Ole Tam On Bord-A-Plouffe

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 sh...

William Henry Drummond

Bateese And His Little Decoys

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'inkdat 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 wind...

William Henry Drummond

De Stove Pipe Hole

Dat's very cole an' stormy night on Village St. Mathieu,
W'en ev'ry wan he's go couché, an' dog was quiet, too,
Young Dominique is start heem out see Emmeline Gourdon,
Was leevin' on her fader's place, Maxime de Forgeron.

Poor Dominique he's lak dat girl, an' love her mos' de tam,
An' she was mak' de promise, sure, some day she be his famme,
But she have worse ole fader dat's never on de worl',
Was swear onless he's riche lak diable, no feller's get hees girl.

He's mak' it plaintee fuss about hees daughter Emmeline,
Dat's mebbe nice girl, too, but den, Mon Dieu, she's not de queen!
An' w'en de young man's come aroun' for spark it on de door,
An' hear de ole man swear "Bapteme!" he's never come no more.

Young Dominique he's sam' de res',, was scare for ole Maxime...

William Henry Drummond