Las' night dey 're passin', de golden plover,
Dis mornin' Im seein' de bluebird's wing,
So if not'ing go wrong, de winters over,
An' not very long till we got de spring.
An' nex' t'ing de reever shell start a-hummin',
An' den youll hear it, de song an' laugh,
Is tellin' de news, de boys are comin'
Home again on de saw-log raf'.
All very well for see dem swingin'
Roun' de beeg islan' dere on de bay,
Nice t'ing too, for to hear dem singin',
'Cos it mak' me t'ink of de good ole day.
An' me--I could lissen dem song forever,
But it is n't so pleasan' w'en evenin' fall,
An' dey 're lookin' for place to stay, an' never
Snub de raf' on ma place at all---
Dats de fine cove if dey only know it--
Hard to fin' better on St. Maurice,
Up de reever or down below it,
An' house on de hill only leetle piece.
W'at is de reason den, w'en dey fin' dem
Raf' comin' near me, dey all get scare,
An' pull lak de devil was close behin' dem,
An' 'way down de reever to Joe Belair?
Two mile more, wit' de rock an' stone dere,
An' water so shallow can't float canoe,
But ev'ry boy of de gang, hes goin' dere,
Even de cook, an' de captain too--
W'at is de reason, I lak to know--me--
Ma own leetle coves lyin' empty dere,
An' nobody stop till dey go below me,
Snubbin' de raf' on Joe Belair?
Not'ing lak dat twenty year ago, sir,
W'en voyageurs' comin' from up above,
Deres only wan place us feller know, sir,
W'en dey 're goin' ashore, an' dat's de cove.
An' dere on door of de house shes stan'nin'
To welcome us back, Madame Baribeau,
An' Pierre hese'f, he was on de lan'nin',
Ready for ketchin' de rope we t'row.
An' oh! de girl use to mak' us crazy--
For many a fine girl Pierre has got--
Right on de jomp too--never lazy,
But Sophies de fines' wan of de lot.
Me--I was only a comon feller,
An' love--wall! jus' lak de leetle calf,
An' it's true, Im sure, w'at dey offen tell her,
Im de uglies' man on boar' de raf'.
But Sophies 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' dats 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 were 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.
So Joe Belair, w'en hees house is buil' dere,
He go down de reever wit' Eugenie,
An' place I settle on top de hill dere,
De ole man geev' it to Sophie an' me.
An' along dey come, wan foller de oder,
Dozen o' girl--not a boy at all--
Never a girl tak' affer de moder,
But all lak de fader, beeg an' small--
A dozen o' girl, of course, no wonder
A few of dem look lak me--sapree!
But w'en dey 're comin' dat way, ba tonder!
Shes jus' a leetle too moche for me.
An' Joe Belair, he was down below me,
Funny t'ing too, he is ketch also,
Ev'ryt'ing girl--how it come dunno--me--
But dey 're all lak de familee Baribeau--
Growin' up purty de sam' de moder--
An' soon as dey know it along de shore
De boys stop comin', an' never bodder
For snub de raf' on ma place no more--
So w'at is de chance ma girl shes gettin',
Don't care w'ere I look, none at all I see,
No use, I s'pose, kipin' on a-frettin',
Dough it's very hard case poor man lak me.
W'at 'll I do for bring dem here,--me?
Can't be blowin' dem to de moon--
Or buil' a dam on de reever near me
For fear were sure to be drownin' soon.
To-night I can hear hees darn ole fiddle,
Playin' away on Joe Belair--
Can hear heem holler, "Pass down de middle
An' dance on your partner over dere."
Pleasan' t'ing too, for to smell de w'isky
Off on de leetle back room--bâ oui--
Helpin' de ole folk mak' dem frisky,
Very pleasan' for dem, but not for me--
Oh! it mak' me mad, an' Im tire tryin'
To show how I feel, an' its hard to tell--
So Ill geev' it up, for deres no good cryin';
sides w'at is de use of a two-mile smell?
Non!--I don't go dere if dey all invite me,
Or de worl' itse'f--she come to an' en'.
De Bishop hese'f, ba Gosh! can write me,
But Jo-seph Belair, hes no more ma frien'
Can't fin' me dere if de sky come down, sir,
I rader ma girl she would never dance--
But far away, off on de Yankee town, sir,
Ill tak' dem w'ere mebbe dey have a chance.
An' reever an' cove, dough Ill not forget dem,
An' voyageurs too, an' Joe Belair,
Can do w'at dey lak, an' me--Ill let dem
Go w'ere dey want to, for I don't care.
