Little Bateese

YOU bad leetle boy, not moche you care
How busy you're kipin' your poor gran'-pere
Tryin to stop you ev'ry day
Chasin' de hen aroun' de hay,
W'y don't you geev' dem a chance to lay?
Leetle Bateese!

Off on de fiel' you foller de plough
Den w'en you're tire you scare de cow
Sickin' de dog till dey jomp de wall
So de milk ain't good for not'ing at all,
An' you're only five an' a half dis fall,
Leetle Bateese!

Too sleepy for sayin' de prayer to-night?
Never min' I s'pose it'll be all right
Say dem to-morrowah! dere he go!
Fas' asleep in a minute or so,
An' he'll stay lak dat till de rooster crow,
Leetle Bateese!

Den wake us up right away toute suite
Lookin' for somet'ing more to eat,
Makin' me t'ink of dem long again,
I wonder your stomach don't get no pain,
Leetle Bateese!

But see heem now lyin' dere in bed,
Look at de arm onderneat' hees head;
If he grow lak dat till he's twenty year
I bet he'll be stronger dan Louis Cyr
An' beat all de voyageurs leevin' here,
Leetle Bateese!

Jus' feel de muscle along hees back,
Won't geev' heem moche bodder for carry pack
On de long portage, any size canoe,
Dere's not many t'ing dat boy won't do
For he's got double-joint on hees body too,
Leetle Bateese!

But leetle Bateese! please don't forget
We rader you're stayin' de small boy yet,
So chase de chicken an' mak' dem scare
An' do w'at you lak wit' your ole gran'pere
For w'en you're beeg feller he won't be dere,
Leetle Bateese!

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

The Rose Delima

William Henry Drummond, Simple Poetry

Spring Bereaved I

William Henry Drummond, Simple Poetry

Johnnie Courteau

William Henry Drummond, Simple Poetry

Saint John Baptist

William Henry Drummond, Simple Poetry

English

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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

Little Mouse

Get along leetle mouse, kick de snow up behin' you
For it's fine winter road we 're travelto- night
Wit' de moon an' de star shinin' up on de sky dere
W'y it 's almos' de sam' as de broad day light.
De bell roun' your body it 's quick tune dey 're playin'
But your foot 's kippin' tam jus' as steady can be,
Ah! you dance youse'f crazy if only I let you,
Ma own leetle pony- petite souris.

You 'member w'en firse we be tryin' for broke you
An' Joe Sauvageau bet hees two dollar bill
He can drive you alone by de bridge on de reever
An' down near de place w'ere dey got de beeg mill.

An' it 's new cariole too, is come from St. Felix
Jo-seph 's only buyin' it week before,
An' w'en he is passin' de road wit' hees trotter
Ev'ry body was stan' on de outside door.

William Henry Drummond

Bateese The Lucky Man

He's alway ketchin' doré, an'he 's alway ketchin' trout
On de place w'ere no wan else can ketch at all
He 's alway ketchin' barbotte, dat 's w'at you call bull-pout,
An' he never miss de wil' duck on de fall.

O! de pa'tridge do someskippin' w'en    she see heem on de swamp
For she know Bateese don't go for not'ing dere,
An' de rabbit if he 's comin' , wall! you ought to see heem jomp.
W'y he want to climb de tree he feel so scare.

Affer two hour by de reever I hear hees leetle song
Den I meet heem all hees pocket full of snipe,
An' me, I go de sam' place, an' I tramp de w'ole day long
An' I'm only shootin' two or t'ree, Ba Cripe!

I start about de sun-rise, an' I put out ma decoy,
An' before it 's comin' breakfas' , he 's holler on hees boy
For carry ho...

William Henry Drummond

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

The Cure Of Calumette

Dere's no voyageur on de reever never run hees canoe d'ecorce
T'roo de roar an' de rush of de rapide, w'ere it jump lak a beeg w'ite horse,
Dere's no hunter man on de prairie, never wear w'at you call racquette
Can beat leetle Fader O'Hara, de Curé of Calumette.

Hees fader is full-blooded Irish, an' hees moder is pure Canayenne,
Not offen dat stock go tegedder, but she's fine combination ma frien'
For de Irish he's full of de devil, an' de French dey got savoir faire,
Dat's mak'it de very good balance an' tak' you mos' ev'ryw' ere.

But dere' wan t'ing de Curé wont stan' it; mak' fun of de Irlandais
An' of course de French we say not'ing, 'cos de parish she's all Canayen,
Den you see on account of de moder, he can't spik hese'f very moche,
So de ole joke she'sall out of fas...

William Henry Drummond

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'do...

William Henry Drummond