William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ Who can blame them, who can blame us If we tell ourselves with pride How a thousand years to tame us The foe has often tried— And should e'er the Empire need us, She'll require no chains to lead us, For we are Empire's children— But Canadian over all. ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ Dough we 're all surroun' by stranger an' we 're in de worl' wance more. Natural Philosophy Very offen I be t'inkin' of de queer folk goin' roun', And way dey kip a-talkin' of de hard tam get along— May have plaintee money too, an' de healt' be good an' soun'— But you 'll fin' dere 's alway somet'ing goin' wrong— 'Course dere may be many reason w'y some feller ought to fret— But me, I 'm alway singin' de only song I know— 'T is n't long enough for music, an' so short you can't forget, But it drive away de lonesome, an' dis is how she go, "Jus' tak' your chance, an' try your luck." ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ Twenty year so hard we 're workin', twenty year reapin', sowin', Choppin' tree an' makin' portage, an' de chil'ren help us too— But it 's never feelin' lonesome w'ile de familee is growin', An' de cradle seldom empty, an' we got so moche to do. Den w'en all de work is finish, w'at dey 're callin' de surveyor He 's comin' here an' fin' us, an' of course so well he might— For it 's easy job to foller, w'en de road is lyin' dere, So blin' man he can walk it wit' hees eyes closed, darkes' night. ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ For gettin' dat poor woman, dough she may have got you now— All de sam', it sometam happen dat your wife will pass away— No use cryin', you can't help it—dere 's your duty to you'se'f— You don't need to ax de neighbor, dey will tell you ev'ry day Start again lak hones' feller, for dere's plaintee woman lef'— "Jus' tak' your chance, an' try your luck." Poor man lak me, I 'm not'ing: only w'en election 's dere, An' ev'rybody 's waitin' to ketch you by de t'roat— De money I be makin' den, wall! dat was mon affaire— An' affer all w'at diff'rence how de poor man mak' de vote? ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ W'en he 's lyin' dere asleep upon de bed, If you do, you say to me, "W'at an angel he mus' be, An' dere can't be not'ing bad upon hees head." Many t'ank for your advice, an' it may be good for some, But de reason you was geev' it is n't very hard to seek— Yass! it 's easy seein' now w'en de talk is over, how You dunno ma leetle boy Dominique? Home "Oh! Mother the bells are ringing as never they rang before, And banners aloft are flying, and open is every door, While down in the streets are thousands of men I have never seen— But friendly are all the faces—oh! ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ Funny feller 's w'at dey call me—"so diff'ren' from de res'," But ev'rybody got hees fault, as far as I can see— An' all de t'ing I 'm doin', I do it for de bes', Dough w'en I 'm bettin' on a race, dat 's often loss for me— "Oho!" I say, "Alphonse ma frien', to-day is not your day, For more you got your money up, de less your trotter go— But never min' an' don't lie down," dat 's w'at I alway say, An' sing de sam' ole song some more, mebbe a leetle slow— "Jus' tak' your chance, an' try your luck." ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ But no gettin' off—mus' strike wit' de res', No matter—it might be worse— We 're savin' along—never lose a day, An' ready w'en bugle blow—" But dat was de very las' word she say, For dere it commence to go, Blowin' away on de mountain dere, W'ere snow very seldom melts, Down by de reever an' ev'ryw'ere, We could n't hear not'ing else— Nobody stop to fin' out de place, Too busy for dat to-day— But we never forget de law in de case W'en feller he spik dis way— "Strike for your home an' your own contree! ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ W'en he 's ole an' blin' an' mebbe deaf, All alone on de house hese'f, No frien', no money, no not'ing lef', An' poor—can't kip a cat. So wan of de night on winter tam, W'en Louis is on hees bed, He say out loud lak a crazy man, "I 'm sick of tryin' to clear dis lan', Work any harder I can't stan', Or it will kill me dead. "Now if de devil would show hese'f An' say to me, 'Tiens! Louis! Hard tam an' work she 's at an' en', You 'll leev' lak a Grand Seigneur ma frien', If only you 'll be ready w'en I want you to come wit' me.' "I 'd say, 'Yass, yass—'maudit! ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ Off on de great beeg city, makin' de money quick, W'ere ev'ry wan want de doctor w'enever he 's leetle sick. "Remember de way to get heem is tell heem it's bad, bad case, Or Doctor Hilaire you 'll never see heem upon dis place! Tell heem dere 's two life waitin', an' sure to be comin' die Unless he is hurry quicker dan ever de bird can fly. "T'orty mile crick is runnin' over de road, I 'm sure, But if you can fin' de crossin' you 'll ketch heem at Beausejour. Sober or drunk, no matter, bring heem along you mus', For Doctor Hilaire 's de only man of de lot for us." ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ An' drive as he can de faster, an' furder away he get, Johnnie can hear dat woman closer an' closer yet. Offen he tell about it, not'ing he never do Geev' heem de funny feelin' Johnnie is goin' t'roo, But he is sure of wan t'ing, if Belzemire 's comin' die, Poor woman, she 'd never foller affer heem wit' her cry. Dat is de t'ing is cheer heem, knowin' she is n't gone, So he answer de voice a-callin', tellin' her to hol' on, Till he bring her de help she 's needin' if only she wait a w'ile Dat is de way he 's doin' all of dem t'orty mile ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ Some nice fresh feesh for de familee," Many a tam he was say to me— An' den I 'm quiet, too scare to spik, Wile Pierre he paddle me down de crick, Easy an' nice he mak' her go Close to de shore w'ere de bulrush grow, W'ere de pike an' de beeg feesh lak to feed, Deir nose stickin' out w'ere you see de weed— "Lissen, ma boy," say Pierre Nadeau, "To some of de t'ing you ought to know: Kip a lookout on de hook an' line, In case dey 're gettin' too far behin'; For it 's purty hard job know w'at to do, If de reever weed 's ketchin' hol' of you. ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ De ole man 's gettin' on. Pioneers If dey 're walkin' on de roadside, an' dey 're bote in love togeder, An' de star of spring is shinin' wit' de young moon in between, It was purty easy guessin' dey 're not talkin' of de wedder, W'en de boy is comin' twenty, an' de girl is jus' eighteen. It 's a sign de winter 's over, an' it 's pleasan' hear de talkin' Of de bull-frog on de swamp dere wit' all hees familee— But it 's lonesome doin' not'ing, an' dere 's not moche fun in walkin', So we fin' some fence dat 's handy for mese'f an' Rosalie. ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ Lak de young Jesu w'en he 's here below De face of ma leetle son look jus' so— Den off beyon', on de bush I see De w'ite dress fadin' among de tree— Was it a dream I dream las' night Is goin' away on de morning light? Getting On I know I 'm not too young, an' ma back is not as straight As it use to be some feefty year ago— Don't care to go aroun' if de rain is fallin' down 'Less de rheumateez is ketch me on de toe— But dat is ma beez-nesse, an' no matter how I feel—- Oder folk dey might look out deir own affair 'Stead o' w'isperin', "Wall! bâ Gosh! ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ You know how moche he lak to spik An' tole us ev'ryt'ing about De way de French can alway lick An' pull de w'ole worl' inside out, Poor Telesphore Cadotte! He 's knowin' all de victory, An' braves' t'ing was never be, To hear heem talk, it 's easy see He 's firse-class patriot. Hees leetle shoe store ev'ry night Can hardly hol' de crowd of folk Dat come to lissen on de fight, An' w'en you see de pile of smoke An' hear ole Telesphore Hammer de boot upon hees knee, You t'ink of course of Chateauguay, An' feel dat 's two, t'ree enemy Don't bodder us no more. ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ An' swamp dat's bodder heem many tam, W'ere is dat swamp to-day? Don't care if you 're huntin' up an' down You won't fin' not'ing but medder groun', An' affer de summer come aroun' W'ere can you see such hay? Wall! de year go by, an' Louis leev' Widout no work to do, Rise w'en he lak on winter day, Fin' all de snow is clear away, No fuss, no not'ing, dere 's de sleigh An' trotter waitin' too. W'en t'orty year is nearly t'roo An' devil 's not come back 'Course Louis say, 'Wall! he forget Or t'ink de tam 's not finish yet ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ An' we can't help feelin' glad too, so we call heem Dieudonné; An' he never cry, dat baby, w'en he 's chrissen by de pries' All de sam' I bet you dollar he 'll waken up some day, An' be as bad as leetle boy Bateese. THE DEVIL Along de road from Bord à Plouffe To Kaz-a-baz-u-a W'ere poplar trees lak sojers stan', An' all de lan' is pleasan' lan', In off de road dere leev's a man Call Louis Desjardins. An' Louis, w'en he firse begin To work hees leetle place, He work so hard de neighbors say, "Unless he tak's de easy way Dat feller 's sure to die some day, We see it on hees face." ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ Of folk from aroun' de place, Billy Dufresne, an' ole Champagne, Comin' to see de race, Wit' plaintee of stranger I never see, An' some of dem from Pointe Claire, All of dem bringin' de familee, W'enever dere 's room to spare. Wonderful sight—I 'm sure you say— To see how Societee (W'atever dat mean?) she got de way Of foolin' de w'ole contree. Den I 'm heetchin' de horse on de fence, for fear Somebody run away, So man wit' de bugle he 's comin' near, An' dis is de t'ing he say— "You see any fox to-day, ma frien', Runnin' aroun' at all, You know any place he got hees den? ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ An' res' of de tam w'en de sport is troo, You 'll pass wit' me down below." An' dis is de night of de year, Marie, Bruno de hunter wake: Soon as de great beeg tonder cloud Up on de mountain 's roarin' loud— He 'll come from hees grave w'ere de pine tree crowd De shore of de leetle lake. You see de lightning zig, zig, Marie, Spittin' lak' loup cervier, [2] Ketch on de trap? Oh! it won't be long Till mebbe you lissen anoder song, For de sky is dark an' de win' is strong, An' de chase is n't far away. ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ Keep Out of the Weeds No smarter man you can never know W'en I was a boy, dan Pierre Nadeau, An' quiet he 's too, very seldom talk, But got an eye lak de mountain hawk, See all aroun' heem mos' ev'ryw'ere, An' not many folk is foolin' Pierre. Offen I use to be t'inkin'—me— How on de worl' it was come to be He know so moche, w'en he never go On college or school, ole Pierre Nadeau, Feesh on de reever de summer t'roo, An' trap on de winter—dat 's all he do. "Hi! boy—Hi! ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ An' dere, on de bar-room sleepin', de man he is lookin' for. Drunk? he is worse dan ever—poor leetle man! too bad! Lissen to not'ing neider, but Johnnie is feel so glad Ketchin' heem dere so easy, 'fore he can answer, "No"— He 's tyin' heem on de buggy, an' off on de road he go— Half o' de journey 's over, half o' de night is pass, W'en Doctor Hilaire stop swearin', an' start to get quiet at las'— Don't do any good ax Johnnie lettin' heem loose again, For if any man tak' de chances, would n't be Johnnie Dufresne. Hooraw for de black horse trotter! hooraw for de feller drive! ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ Till Johnnie is bring de doctor, an' carry heem on de door An' loosen heem out as sober as never he was before. Quiet inside de house now, quiet de outside too, Look at each oder smokin', dat 's about all we do; An' jus' as we feel, ba tonder! no use, we mus' talk or die, Dere on de house we 're hearin' poor leetle baby's cry. ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ If dey want to kip deir own, let dem raise de familee— An' den dey 'll boss de contree from de mountain to de sea, For dey 're smart enough to do it if dey try. The Last Portage I'm sleepin' las' night w'en I dream a dream An' a wonderful wan it seem— For I 'm off on de road I was never see, Too long an' hard for a man lak me, So ole he can only wait de call Is sooner or later come to all. De night is dark an' de portage dere Got plaintee o' log lyin' ev'ryw'ere, Black bush aroun' on de right an' lef, A step from de road an' you los' you'se'f ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ All on account of de wife too, An' I know you 'll be sorry 'bout dat poor feller, I know you 'll be sorry for Joe Boucher. De nam' dat girl she 's Azeel-daw, An' purty good worker, too, dey say— She don't lose chance for a brave garçon, An' so she marry Joe Boucher. Now he 's los' hees life too, All on account of de wife too, An' I know you 'll be sorry 'bout dat poor feller, I know you 'll be sorry for Joe Boucher. Den off on de wood poor Joe he lef', An' w'en he 's home wit' de bird in spring, An' fin' leetle feller jus' lak hese'f, Mebbe Joe don't dance an' Joe don't sing! ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ I 'd lick heem till he 's cryin' purty hard, An' for fear he 's gettin' spile, I 'd geev' heem castor ile, An' I would n't let heem play outside de yard." If you see ma leetle boy Dominique Hangin' on to poor ole "Billy" by de tail, W'en dat horse is feelin' gay, lak I see heem yesterday, I s'pose you t'ink he 's safer on de jail? ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ An' it's true, I 'm sure, w'at dey offen tell her, I 'm de uglies' man on boar' de raf'. But Sophie 's so nice an' good shese'f too, De uglies' man upon all de worl' Forget hees face an' forget hese'f too, T'ree minute affer he see dat girl— An' dat 's de reason de chance is better, For you must n't be t'ink of you'se'f at all, But t'ink of de girl if you want to get her, An' so we 're marry upon de fall. An' purty soon den dey all get started, For marryin' fever come so strong W'en de firse wan go, dat dey 're broken-hearted An' tak' mos' anyt'ing come along. ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ Purty long tam for waitin', but poor leetle Belzemire She 's bad enough now for pay up all of dem twenty year. Call heem de oldes' doctor, call heem de younges' wan, Bring dem along, no matter if ev'ry dollar 's gone— T'ree of dem can't do not'ing, workin' for two days dere, She was a very sick woman, Belzemire Lafreniere. Pierre he was cryin', cryin' out on de barn behin', Neighbors tryin' to kip heem goin' right off hees min', W'en somebody say, "Las' winter, ma wife she is nearly go, An' who do you t'ink is save her? ev'ry wan surely know. "Drink? does he drink de w'isky? ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ Geev' me some tam, an' I 'll feex dat feller Shootin' de moose on de summer day. W'at do you t'ink of a sapree beaver Hittin' hees tail on de lake dat way? Ought to be home wit' hees wife—not leave her Workin' away on de house all day— Funny t'ing, too, how he alway fin' me Sailin' along on de ole canoe, Lookin' for sign—den bang! behin' me An' down on de water—dat's w'at he do. Otter feeshin' an' bob cat cryin'— Up on de sky de beeg black hawk— Down on de swamp w'ere a dead log 's lyin', Pa'tridge doin' hees own cake-walk! ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ I 'll tak' ma chance an' never fret," But dat 's w'ere he mak' mistak'. For on a dark an' stormy night W'en Louis is sittin' dere, After he fassen up de door De devil come as he come before, Lookin' de sam' only leetle more, For takin' heem—you know w'ere. "Asseyez vous, sit down, ma frien', Bad night be on de road; You come long way an' should be tire— Jus' wait an' mebbe I feex de fire— Tak' off your clothes for mak' dem drier, Dey mus' be heavy load." ”
William Henry Drummond,
The Voyageur and Other Poems
“ Talk about water of any kin', Don't matter you go over all creation— De Lac Souci she can beat dem blin'. Happy to leev an' happy to die dere— But Heaven itself won't satisfy me, Till I fin' leetle hole off on de sky dere W'ere I can be lookin' on Lac Souci! Poirier's Rooster "W'at's dat? de ole man gone, you say? Wall! Wall! he mus' be sick, For w'en he pass de oder day, He walk along widout de stick, Lak twenty year or so— Fine healt'y man, ole Telesphore, I never see heem sick before, Some rheumateez, but not'ing more— Please tell me how he go." ”
