William Henry Drummond

Name: The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems
Author: William Henry Drummond

The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

Summary

“The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems”, is a work by William Henry Drummond. It explores elements such as W'en, tam and plaintee.

Quotes from The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems (William Henry Drummond)

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ In the days of the "Old Regime" in Canada, the free life of the woods and prairies proved too tempting for the young men, who frequently deserted civilization for the savage delights of the wilderness. These voyageurs and coureurs de bois seldom returned in the flesh, but on every New Year's Eve, back thro' snowstorm and hurricane—in mid-air—came their spirits in ghostly canoes, to join, for a brief spell, the old folks at home and kiss the girls, on the annual feast of the "Jour de l'an," or New Year's Day. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ O spirit of the mountain! that speaks to us to-night,
Return again and bring us new dreams of past delight,
And while our heart-throbs linger, and till our pulses cease,
We'll worship thee among the hills where flows the Saint-Maurice. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ N'est-elle pas, en effet, d'une originalité peu commune, l'idée de prendre un pauvre illettré, de le présenter comme un type national à part, de lui mettre aux lèvres une langue qui n'est pas la sienne et qu'il ne connaît qu' à demi; d'en faire en même temps un personnage bon, doux, aimable, honnête, intelligent et droit, l'esprit en éveil, le coeur plein d'une poésie native stimulant son patriotisme, jetant un rayon lumineux dans son modeste intérieur, berçant ses heures rêveuses de souvenirs lointains et mélancoliques? ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ Qu'il mette en scène le gros fermier fier de son bien ou de ses filles à marier, le vieux médecin de campagne ne comptant plus ses états de service, le jeune amoureux qui rêve au clair de la lune, le vieillard qui repasse en sa mémoire la longue suite des jours révolus, le conteur de légendes, l'aventurier des "pays d'en haut," et même le Canadien exilé—le Canadien errant, comme dit la chanson populaire—qui croit toujours entendre résonner à son oreille le vague tintement des cloches de son village ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ La peinture qu'en fait le poète est on ne peut plus sympathique et juste; et de semblables procédés ne peuvent que cimenter l'union de coeur et d'esprit qui doit exister entre toutes les fractions qui composent la grande famille canadienne appelée à vivre et à prospérer sous la même loi et le même drapeau. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ Mais comment, sans tomber dans la charge ou la bouffonnerie, faire parler systématiquement à ses personnages une langue étrangère, forcément incorrecte dans la bouche de quelqu'un qui l'a apprise par oreille, sans savoir lire même dans sa propre langue?
La tentative était hardie; mais on sait que le succès a un faible pour les audacieux. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ An' if he ketch me on de house I'm scare he's killin' me,
So I mus' lef' ole St. Mathieu, for work on 'noder place,
An' till I mak de beeg for-tune, you never see ma face."
Den Emmeline say "Dominique, ma love you'll alway be
An' if you kiss me two, t'ree tam I'll not tole noboddy—
But prenez garde ma fader, please, I know he's gettin ole—
All sam' he offen walk de house upon de stockin' sole.
"Good-bye, good-bye, cher Dominique! I know you will be true,
I don't want no riche feller me, ma heart she go wit' you." ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ For spen' wit' us de winter tam, mon cher petit oiseau!
We alway know you're comin', w'en we hear de firs' beeg storm,
A sweepin' from de sky above, an' screamin' as she go—
Can tell you're safe inside it, w'ere you're keepin' nice an' warm,
But no wan's never see you dere, mon cher petit oiseau!
Was it 'way behin' de mountain, dat de nort' win' ketch you sleepin'
Mebbe on your leetle nes' too, an' before de wing she grow,
Lif' you up an' bring you dat way, till some morning fin' you peepin'
Out of new nes' on de snow dreef, mon pauv' petit oiseau! ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ More finer dan de Presbytere, w'en I am come riche man!"
I say "For w'at you spik lak dat? you must be gone crazee
Dere's plaintee feller on de State, more smarter dan you be,
Beside she's not so healtee place, an' if you mak' l'argent,
You spen' it jus' lak Yankee man, an' not lak habitant.
"For me Bateese! I tole you dis: I'm very satisfy—
De bes' man don't leev too long tam, some day Ba Gosh! he die—
An' s'pose you got good trotter horse, an' nice famme Canadienne
Wit' plaintee on de house for eat—W'at more you want ma frien'?" ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ An' "tabac Canayen" bedamme! he won't smoke dat at all!—
But fancy drink lak "Collings John" de way he put it down
Was long tam since I don't see dat—I t'ink he's goin' drown!—
An' fine cigar cos' five cent each, an' mak' on Trois-Rivières
L'enfant! he smoke beeg pile of dem—for monee he don't care!—
I s'pose meseff it's t'ree o'clock w'en we are t'roo dat night
Bateese, hees fader come for heem, an' tak' heem home all right
De ole man say Bateese spik French, w'en he is place on bed—
An' say bad word—but w'en he wake—forget it on hees head—
Wall! ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ 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 mout'.
Bateese is get it on hees head, he's too moche educate
For mak' de habitant farmerre—he better go on State—
An' so wan summer evening we're drivin' home de cow
He's tole me all de whole beez-nesse—jus' lak you hear me now.
"W'at's use mak' foolish on de farm? dere's no good chances lef'
An' all de tam you be poor man—you know dat's true you'se'f;
We never get no fun at all—don't never go on spree
Onless we pass on 'noder place, an' mak' it some monee. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ L'enfant! l'enfant! it's very strange t'ing!
mak' me laugh too w'en I hear
De young peep talk of de long, long tam of
seventy, eighty year!
Dat's only be jus' eighty New Year Day, an'
quickly was pass it by
It's beeg, beeg dream, an' you don't wake up,
till affer you're comin' die.
Dat's true sure enough, you see curi's t'ing,
if you only leev leetle w'ile,
So long you got monee go all de place, for
mebbe t'ree t'ousan' mile,
But monee's not everyt'ing on dis worl', I tole
you dat, mes amis,
An' man can be ole lak' two honder year, an'
not see it, La Chasse Gal'rie. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ An' it's den you be let her go, Johnnie, till roof she was mos' cave in,
An' if dere's firs' prize on de singin', Bagosh! you're de man can win!
Affer dat come fidelle of Joe Pilon, an' he's feller can make it play,
So we're clearin' de floor right off den, for have leetle small danser.
An' w'en dance she was tout finis, Johnnie, I go de sam' bunk wit' you
W'ere we sleep lak two broder, an' dream of de girl on Riviere du Loup,
Very nice ontil somebody call me, it soun' lak de boss Pelang,
"Leve toi, Jeremie ma young feller, or else you'll be late on de gang." ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ Long tam' for our moder so far away de poor Canayens is cry,
But de new step-moder she's good an' kin', an' it's all right bimeby.
If de moder come dead w'en you're small garçon leavin' you dere alone,
Wit' nobody watchin' for fear you fall, an hurt youse'f on de stone,
An' 'noder good woman she tak' your han' de sam' your own moder do,
Is it right you don't call her moder, is it right you don't love her too?
Bâ non, an' dat was de way we feel, w'en de ole Regime's no more,
An' de new wan come, but don't change moche, w'y it's jus' lak' it be before. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ An' if I marry on dat girl, Bagosh! she's lak de Queen.
"I want you mak de promise now, before it's come too late,
An' I mus' tole you dis also, dere's not moche tam for wait.
Your foot she's hangin' down so low, I'm 'fraid she ketch de cole,
Wall! if you give me Emmeline, I pull you out de hole."
Dat mak' de ole man swear more hard he never swear before,
An' wit' de foot he's got above, he's kick it on de floor,
"Non, non," he say "Sapré tonnerre! she never marry you,
An' if you don't look out you get de jail on St. Mathieu." ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ Till de cook say "'Raw for breakfas'," den we smell de pork an' bean.
Some folk say she's bad for leever, but for man work hard on reever,
Dat's de bes' t'ing I can tole you, dat was never yet be seen,
Course dere's oder t'ing ah tak' me, fancy dish also I lak me,
But w'en I want somet'ing solid, please pass me de pork an' bean.
All dis tam de raf' she's goin' lak steamboat was got us towin'
All we do is keep de channel, an' dat's easy workin' dere,
So we sing some song an' chorus, for de good tam dat's before us,
W'en de w'ole beez-nesse she's finish, an' we come on Trois Rivieres. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ But I forget mos' all ma French since I go on de State.
Dere's 'noder t'ing kip on your head, ma frien' dey mus' be tole
Ma name's Bateese Trudeau no more, but John B. Waterhole!"
"Hole on de water's" fonny name for man w'at's call Trudeau
Ma frien's dey all was spik lak dat, an' I am tole heem so—
He say "Trudeau an' Waterhole she's jus' about de sam'
An' if you go for leev on State, you must have Yankee nam'." ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ 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,
He don't lak risk hese'f too moche for chances seein' heem,
Dat's only stormy night he come, so dark you cannot see,
An dat's de reason w'y also, he's climb de gallerie.
De girl she's waitin' dere for heem—don't care about de rain,
So glad for see young Dominique he's comin' back again,
Dey bote forget de ole Maxime, an' mak de embrasser
An affer dey was finish dat, poor Dominique is say—
"Good-bye, dear Emmeline, good-bye ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ De more I see de ole village an' louder soun' de bell.
O! all de monee dat I mak' w'en I be travel roun'
Can't kip me long away from home on dis beeg Yankee town,
I t'ink I'll settle down again on Parish Saint Michel,
An' leev an' die more satisfy so long I hear dat bell.
PELANG. Pelang! Pelang! Mon cher garçon,
I t'ink of you—t'ink of you night and day—
Don't mak' no difference, seems to me
De long long tam you're gone away.
* * * * *
De snow is deep on de Grande Montagne—
Lak tonder de rapide roar below—
De sam' kin' night, ma boy get los'
On beeg, beeg storm forty year ago. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ Avec mille fois plus de raison puis-je aujourd'hui passer le compliment à mon sympathique confrère et ami, l'auteur de ce livre; car, si jamais quelqu'un, chez nous, a mérité le titre de pathfinder of a new land of song, c'est assurément lui. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ W'ere he leev lak blood rooster, an' save de l'argent,
Wit' hees nice leetle Canadienne.
I marry ma famme w'en I'm jus' twenty year,
An' now we got fine familee,
Dat skip roun' de place lak leetle small deer,
No smarter crowd you never see—
An' I t'ink as I watch dem all chasin' about,
Four boy an' six girl, she mak' ten,
Dat's help mebbe kip it, de stock from run out,
Of de nice leetle Canadienne.
O she's quick an' she's smart, an' got plaintee heart,
If you know correc' way go about,
An' if you don't know, she soon tole you so
Den tak' de firs' chance an' get out ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ But if she love you, I spik it for true,
She will mak' it more beautiful den,
An' sun on de sky can't shine lak de eye
Of dat nice leetle Canadienne.
'POLEON DORÉ. A TALE OF THE SAINT MAURICE. You have never hear de story of de young Napoleon Doré?
Los' hees life upon de reever w'en de lumber drive go down?
W'ere de rapide roar lak tonder, dat's de place he's goin' onder,
W'en he's try save Paul Desjardins, 'Poleon hese'f is drown. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ Ev'ryboddy seem glad w'en dey see her, come
walkin' right down de platform,
An' way dey mak' noise on de han' den, w'y!
it's jus' lak de beeg tonder storm!
I'll never see not'ing lak dat, me, no matter
I travel de worl',
An' Ma-dam, you t'ink it was scare her? Non,
she laugh lak de Chambly girl!
Dere was young feller comin' behin' her, walk
nice, comme un Cavalier,
An' before All-ba-nee she is ready an' piano
get startin' for play,
De feller commence wit' hees singin', more
stronger dan all de res',
I t'ink he's got very bad manner, know not'ing
at all politesse. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ Il était assez familier avec ses acteurs pour les grouper avantageusement, en ménageant les effets d'ombres et de lumière. Il est naturellement assez artiste pour ne rien négliger de ce qui ajoute du pittoresque à la pose ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ 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. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ 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 course she's purty well break heem up,
So come leetle cheap—twenty-wan dollarre.
Firs' chance I sen' heem on St. Cesaire,
W'ere I t'ink he's have moche better sight,
Mebbe de grass an' de contree air
Very soon was feex heem up all right.
I lef' heem dere till de fall come 'long,
An' dat trotter he can't eat grass no more,
An' w'en I go dere, I fin' heem strong
Lak not'ing I never see before. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ If he'll do dat wan tam, he's prepare for die.
Philéas say he know w'ere some blue berree
Mak' very good place for de bear have fonne,
So we start nex' day on morning earlee,
An' M'sieu Smit' go wit' hees elephan' gun.
Wan woman sauvage she is come be dere,
Mebbe want some blue berree mak' some pie,
Dat' Englishman shoot, he is t'ink she's bear,
An' de woman she's holler, "Mon Dieu, I'm die!"
M'sieu Smit' he don't do no harm, becos
He is shake hese'f w'en he shoot dat squaw,
But scare he pay hunder' dollar cos'
For keel some sauvage on de "close" saison. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ An' spose mus' be conductor ring.
Firs' t'ing I know ma trotter's drop
Dat tail was stan' so straight before,
An' affer dat, mebbe he stop
For me, I don't know not'ing more.
But w'en I'm come alive again
I fin' dat horse call "Clevelan' Bay"
Was got firs' place, an' so he's gain
Dat wan mile heat on straight away.
An' now w'erever I am go
Bad boy he's sure for holler an' yell
Dis donc! Dis donc! Paul Archambault!
W'at's matter wit' your chestnutte bell?
Mak' plaintee troub' dem bad garçons,
An' offen ring some bell also,
Was mad! Could plonge on de St. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ We mus' get up immediatement, dat leetle feller blow,
An' so we start heem off again, for pull de beeg batteau,
De sojer man he's nice, nice boy, an' help us all he can,
An' geev heem chance, he's mos' as good lak some Canadian man.
Wall all de tam, she go lak dat, was busy every day,
Don't get moche chance for foolish-ness, don't get no chance for play,
Dere's plaintee danger all aroun', an' w'en we're comin' back
We got look out for run heem safe, dem sapré Catarack.
But w'ere's de war? I can't mak' out, don't see no fight at all! ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ But de blue coat sojer he don't get kill, is de locky Yankee man!
Since den w'en dey're comin on Canadaw, we alway be treat dem well,
For dey're spennin' de monee lak' gentil-hommes, an' stay on de bes' hotel,
Den "Bienvenu," we will spik dem, an' "Come back agen nex' week,
So long you was kip on de quiet an' don't talk de politique!"
Yass, dat is de way Victoriaw fin' us dis jubilee,
Sometam' we mak' fuss about not'ing, but it's all on de familee,
An' w'enever dere's danger roun' her, no matter on sea or lan',
She'll find that les Canayens can fight de sam' as bes' Englishman. ”

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Source: Gutenberg

William Henry Drummond, The Habitant and Other French-Canadian Poems

“ An' save de life Hormisdas Couture.
But it's sam' alway, lak' dat ev'ry day,
He never was spare hese'f pour nous autres,
He don't mak' moche monee, Docteur Fiset,
An' offen de only t'ing he was get
Is de prayer of poor man, an' wan bag of oat.
* * * * *
Wall! Docteur Fiset of Saint Anicet
He is not dead yet! an' I'm purty sure
If you're passin' dat place about ten year more
You will see heem go roun' lak' he go before
Wit' de ole cariole an' hees horse "Faubourg!" ”

William Henry Drummond

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