Angus Mackay

“ Oh, sing aloud the glad refrain, that friend with friend will meet again!
For love like this can ne'er be conquered by the grave.
What though the red men roam at will, from arid plain to cooler hill,
Regardless of the mounds that lie amid the groves:
What though our children find their graves with ghosts of long departed braves,
The spot is one the God of nature dearly loves.
In Arizona's distant land, where cyclones drift the heated sand,
And where the tall, majestic pine tree branches wave ”

“ There's a confidence unbounded hedging 'round his solitude
That should warn marauding mongrels with designs upon his brood!
O, the outlook from his aerie is a grand one, it is true—
Matchless beauty in the vistas which unfold before his view;
Might and right and wealth and glory that shall never know decline
Are his attributes to conquer ruthless robbers of the Rhine! ”

“ I offer no apology for my "dialect" songs as they have already received the approval of music lovers whose judgment is beyond criticism.
For the errors which must inevitably creep into the work of a non-college-bred lumberjack, I crave the indulgence of all highbrows who may resent my inability to comb the classics for copy to please them. All the merit I can claim is the ability to rhyme a limerick or sing a "come-all-ye" in a manner perhaps not unpleasing to my friends.
The lumberjacks will understand me, I am sure, and will appreciate my humble efforts to entertain them. ”

“ Carry on till the stately trees which constitute the glory of the West are converted into ships and planes in countless thousands, to win the great war for freedom and to make the world safe for democracy—and lumberjacks! ”

“ Kultur may be a powerful persuader but the call of the blood is more powerful still, and when the old lion roared his appeal the sound went round the world, and the whelps, true to their breed, gathered from all corners of the earth, not into alien jungles, but home! The fur is now flying and blood is flowing, and when the combatants shall have emerged from the great conflict the two powerful branches of the English-speaking peoples will be bound together in ties of friendship stronger than ever before, and by thunder they will not be under! ”

“ Every clansman will awake,
From old Hampton down to Weedon
And from Lingwick to the Lake.
We will conquer with our music
If our fighting fails to win,
Whom bold Larry cannot vanquish
We will silence with our din ”

“ W'en I see dem tear drop fallin',
Jus' lak dew of early mornin',
Hangel voices seem lak callin',
Callin' Joe to Rosemarie!
Rosemarie, de angels' callin', O how sweet dat soun' to me!
Rosemarie, you' tear drops fallin' coax ma heart across de sea!
Paradise den open to me,
As she whisper, "Welcome home."
To my arms her form I drew me—
Den, Sapre! I wake, an' boom!
Roar of gun for church-bell ringin',
Howl of Hun for robins' singin'—
Loving arms no more are clingin':
War is hell, sweet Rosemarie!
Chorus
Rosemarie, de bells are ringin',
O, how sweet dat melodie!
Rosemarie! ”

“ I am tire now of roam', Rosemarie,
An' long to be at home 'mong de tree,
W'ere de Robin redbreas' sing
In de branches every spring,
An' de bes' of everyt'ing, You wit' me!
For de independen' man, Rosemarie,
Farmin' is de bettair plan, seem to me;
W'ere no boss is stan' an' swear
Till you feel lak pull you' hair—
O! ba gosh I want ma fare rat away!
Yes, if man has got one soul, Rosemarie,
Don' it mak' him hot lak ol' Mont Pelee! ”

“ W'en it get hold de handle axe,
It mak' de chip to fly
T'ick as snowflak' in de winter,
Or mosquito on July.
Paul will come from Manchester,
An' Xavier from Lowhell;
Joe will come from River Fall,
Immediate—pell mell;
An' every mill of Honcle Sam
Will have to close de loom,
W'en all our boys aroun' de State
Will come to fight at home.
O by de jomp up hooricane!
If Yankee don't stop brag;
She'll fin' more star on top his head,
Den he got top his flag;
She'll fin' one tiger on his track,
Wit' blood-shot on his eye,
And ev'ry Yank dat cross de line
For fight, is sure to die. ”

“ Frank Bogash is stan' still on de top of Sand Hill,
An' say, 'glory to God, he can beat me for trot!'
"An' his tail in de win' is fly up wit'out bend,
Jus' as straight lak de pole dat de trolley car send.
Yes, it stick up behin' lak de mos' of its kin',
[65] An' I'm t'ink dat de spark is fly out at de end!
"He is wheeze on de breeze till I'm 'fraid he will bus',
An' ma Joe, de ol' fou, is yell 'Go it, you cuss!'
Jus' as soon as he yell Boney do as he tell,
An' de city of Cookshire we leave in de dus'.
"It's rat here I got scare, an' declare to him 'Hi! ”

“ Since dey bury ma Mary an' boy on de hill;
W'en you ask it I fin' dat I can't leave behin'
Lonely grave of ma darlings, Marie and boy Bill.
"An' I'm feel it is true, half of me's bury too,
Since was lay in de clay leettle body from view!
So you do w'at you lak, I will try for to mak'
Jus' de bes' of de bargain, I promise to you.
"But I tole to you, Joe, if you t'ink I mus' go,
It is only half womans be wit' you I know;
For de res' of me stay w'ere de leettle ones lay—
In de summer an' flower, in winter an' snow!" ”

“ There the hardy lumberjack is the undisputed lord of the lowlands and chief of the highlands, and at the present time no soldier in the trenches or sailor on the rolling deep has a more arduous task to perform or a more important duty to discharge than he. ”

“ Kip on yell to beat tell w'en he see de graveyard!
"At one place as we pass, I t'ink down de Black Eye,
Sleep some dear pioneer—80 year since dey die:
Here ol' Joe yell so loud for de clans in de shroud
Some is jomp up to see w'at de dev' is pass by!
"An' jus' leettle way down, Boney stop in his track,
An' he spy, an' he shy, an' he try to turn back;
But Joe hit him a clip on de hip wit' de whip,
An' somebodda in Scotch is yell 'Frangach a cack.'
"But Boney don' need it de crack of de switch,
As he jomp through de stomp on de top of de ditch,
Yellin' 'Caillach a rad cross! ”

“ W'en down Wellington street to de market we go;
An' garson in bare feet—all de blaggard I meet
Mak' me squirm lak de worm from ma head to de toe.
"O ge whizz I am proud w'en we come on de crowd,
An' damfool out of school, he is laugh it out loud;
But de glory to God w'en I t'ink of de load
An' de boneyard dat carry it over de road,
An' de squeak of de gig, and de squeal of de pig,
I don' blame it for laugh w'en he look at de rig!
"'Ha! ha!' he is cry, 'hope to die, how you feel?
Ain't it tam to give pig in dat box some more meal?
You' horse it's too fat lak de edge of de slat ”

“ Can't you steady you nerves an' come down from de sky?'
But I fin' it's no use, for de dev' is seem loose,
An' de more as I coax it de louder he cry!
"On de top of de slope w'ere dey bury de Pope
I say, 'Joe, you go slow through dis precinct I hope.'
But he yell for protection—'Hoorah for 'lection,
Free trade will be hang if it get some more rope!'
"An' I know rat away dat de dev' is to pay,
W'en he cry to de sky in dat blood curdle way
For John Henry arose, to meet frien' or de foes—
An' said, 'Ladies an' gentlemen, where's Laurier?' ”

“ To be shame of de game till it stab lak de knife;
An' de peop' are all tell 'Dat's de mate of Trudel,
Who is travel lak hell on de jo'rney of life.
"Dat's why you are cry, an' you' heart feel it sore,
An' you ask me to roam from ma home evermore.
[70] Jus' you geeve up one t'ing, an' de birds it will sing,
An' de sonshine will cling w'ere it's shadow before!
"O dat man is de bes' who will cling to his nes'
W'ere he's born an' he's raise an' he's work an' he's res';
If he don' mak' success rat at home, I confess,
Den it's slim hope for him in de Sout' or de Wes'. ”

“ On de war of Papineau;
You know I'm just the sam' lak' him,
I'll do what he can done;
An' I can fight lak' tiger, too,
Dat Yankee son-of-gun."
Ma Rosie say: "You crack hole man,
Such tom fool speech to mak',
I t'ink you are most crazy man
Dat live on top de lac—
Your boy is in de State, you know,
An' work in Yankee mill,
An' w'at you do he lose his job,
His bread an' greenback bill?"
"Baa, you mak' mistak', dear Rosie,
If you t'ink we starve to dead;
If we can't get de Yankee work,
His brown bean an' his bread,
Grease pie, hot doughnut—biscuit,
Is good t'ing for mak' a dude ”

“ From de country of de Yankee,
Where de heagle bird is roost,
Where de Star and Stripe is worship
All de way from coast to coast,
Comes a rumble of de danger
Dat is t'reaten us once more,
W'en de Fenian tak' hadvantage
Of our trobble wit' de Boer.
Some crank mans in New York City
Mak' beeg speech dat soun' lak' joke,
And he tell us "what a pity
Canadaw wear British yoke!"
And dey shout out to de people
In de clap-trap of de brave:
"We will send it men and money
[83] For to liberate de slave!" ”

“ Time alone can prove the value of the services rendered the Allied cause in this great war by British Americans and Americanadians residing in the United States.
The Germans and pro-Germans of this country thot in their overweening pride with overbearing Kultur to obtain a greater "pull" with Uncle Sam than we possessed. ”

“ You get sick very quick jus' before de physic,
But de cure is work sure after tak' de firs' nip.
[63]
"Las' tam you was in you begin de ol' trick,
An' you' frien' soon atten' to tak' charge of de sick;
Soon you smug' a beeg jug to de stall of you' plug—
But Marie' dat is me, an' cheval mak' a kick.
"O dat 2-gallon stein of de jolly highwine,
In de provender mix, mak' a bully combine!
If it's good for a fool sure it's good for de mule,
An' dat is as true as twice four it is nine.
"I am t'ink if you drink till you' loaded for wreck,
I will geeve de ol' nag de sam' jag on de deck ”

“ Canada's de place spen' Chris'mas
Up at Weedon 'mong de tree!
I feel bad for Wilfrid Laurier,
An' for all de beeg Frenchman,
Who can nevair know henjoymen'
In dis worl' de sam's I can.
Troub' is all he gets for breakfas',
An' for dinnair too I guess—
Charlie Tupper's eat for supper—
An' hee's awful hard diges'!
Den de nightmare kick lak blazes,
W'en a leetle sleep dey foun'—
I can sleep me in dis shanty
Twice as fas' an' twice as soun'.
I don' henvey any rich man,
He can tak' ma house an' lan',
But he can't tak' ma henjoymen'
Lak de res' w'en hee's deman'. ”

“ Dat's tarnation sure to win
W'en Old Glory joins de Allies
On dat rough road to Berlin!
Mos' place I go dey ask me, "Joe,
Who start dis gol darn war?
Was it de Sultan-Kaiser,
Or de Austro Hungry Tsar?"
I hanswer, "well, it's hard to tell
Who start dis hell abroad,
But spite of Hun, de gas an' gun,
We'll finish it, ba God!"
[102]
Den Rosie, dear, dry up de tear,
An' cheer up lak ma joy—
You know de Hun is turn his gun
On leetle girl an' boy!
Now dat we mus' join in de fuss
And Honcle Sam say, "Get!"
Jus' wish us well an' shout lak hell
For de Guards of Lafayette! ”

“ So cold lak de pump, or de frost on de stump,
An' her beautiful back is rise up in de hump;
Quick I mak' up my min' w'en I look on dat sign,
It is jus' 'bout de tam for me Joe mak' a jomp!
"In de quarr'l of a fam' don' it sure beat de ban'
How de neighbors butt in, jus' lak one of de clan—
If ol' Liz' an' her phiz would kip out of my biz',
It is sure not be half de divorce in de lan'.
"Did I jomp? Well, I'm not geeve it secrets away
Dat's between man an' wife an' de pump any day,
But Marie w'en she's woun', tak's some tam to run down,
An' before she collapse she me raps in dis way:" ”

“ Not 'nuff grease in de pig for to put on de wheel!
W'at you tak' it in cash for you' automosqueal?'"
"Dat's de cry dat I hear on de top of ma ear
W'en Marie, dat is me, an' her chariot appear.
An' as sure I'm rebel as you' name is Trudel
If it's not some improvement in movement nex' year."
Joe
"O, I know very well, ma cheval is poor breed,
But for trav' lak de dev' he is very fine steed;
It is true he is slim, but jus' look at his limb—
He is build lak de fly-machine—all for de speed! ”

“ Wit' de plan dat you han' for dat gran' beeg movie;
If you start for de State jus' be sure not be late:
I will stay rat at home till you come, don' you see?
[59]
"So skedad," she is yell, "an' go down to Lowhell,
W'ere de snow she don' blow and no ice clog de well!
I will freeze if I please, or go sout' wit' de geese,
An' live 'long wit' ma niece in 'at ol' Lennoxvell."
Joe
"Yes, ma dear, I can hear, if you don' spik so clear,
An' break in lak a bomb on de drom of ma ear;
You may fly wit' you' niece an' go live wit' de geese,
If you promise to write in you' flight once a year. ”