DE place I get born, me, is up on de reever
Near foot of de rapide dat's call Cheval
Blanc
Beeg mountain behin' it, so high you can't
climb it
An' whole place she's mebbe two honder
arpent.
De fader of me, he was habitant farmer,
Ma gran' fader too, an' hees fader also,
Dey don't mak' no monee, but dat isn't fonny
For it's not easy get ev'ryt'ing, you mus'
know—
All de sam' dere is somet'ing dey got ev'ry-
boddy,
Dat's plaintee good healt', wat de monee can't
geev,
So I'm workin' away dere, an' happy for stay
dere
On farm by de reever, so long I was leev.
O! dat was de place w'en de spring tam she's
comin',
W'en snow go away, an' de sky is all blue-
W'en ice lef' de water, an' sun is get hotter
An' back on de medder is sing de gou-glou-
W'en small sheep is firs' comin' out on de pasture,
Deir nice leetle tail stickin' up on deir back,
Dey ronne wit' deir moder, an' play wit' each
oder
An' jomp all de tam jus' de sam' dey was crack—
An' ole cow also, she's glad winter is over,
So she kick herse'f up, an' start off on de
race
Wit' de two-year-ole heifer, dat's purty soon
lef' her
W'y ev'ryt'ing's crazee all over de place!
An' down on de reever de wil' duck is quackin'
Along by de shore leetle san' piper ronne-
De bullfrog he's gr-rompin' an' doré is jompin'
Dey all got deir own way for mak' it de fonne.
But spring's in beeg hurry, an' don't stay long wit' us
An' firs' t'ing we know, she go off till nex? year,
Den bee commence: hummin', for summer is
comin' An' purty soon corn's gettin' ripe on de ear.
Dat's very nice tam for wake up on de morning
An' lissen de rossignol sing ev'ry place,
Feel sout' win' a-blowin', see clover a-growin',
An' all de worl' laughin' itself on de face.
Mos' ev'ry day raf' it is pass on de rapide
De voyageurs singin' some ole chanson
'Bout girl down de reever—too bad dey mus' leave her,
But comin' back soon wit' beaucoup d'argent.
An' den w'en de fall an' de winter come roun' us
An' bird of de summer is all fly away,
W'en mebbe she's snowin' an' nort' win' is blowin'
An' night is mos' t'ree tam so long as de day.
You t'ink it was bodder de habitant farmer?
Not at all— he is happy an' feel satisfy,
An' cole may, las' good w'ile, so long as de wood-Is ready for burn on de stove by an' bye.
W'en I got plaintee hay put away on de stable
So de sheep an' de cow, dey got no chance to
freeze,
An' de hen all togedder — I don't min' de
wedder—
De nort' win' may blow jus' so moche as she
please.
An' some cole winter night how I wish you can
see us,
W'en I smoke on de pipe, an' de ole woman
sew
By de stove of T'ree Reever-ma wife's fader
geev her
On day we get marry, dat's long tam ago-
De boy an' de girl, dey was readin' it's lesson,
De cat on de corner she's bite heem de pup,
Ole "Carleau" he's snorin' an' beeg stove is
roarin'
So loud dat I'm scare purty soon she bus' up.
Philomene dat's de oldes'—is sit on de winder
An' kip jus' so quiet lak wan leetle mouse,
She say de more finer moon never was shiner
Very fonny, for moon isn't dat side de house.
But purty soon den, we hear foot on de outside,
An' some wan is place it hees han' on de
latch,
Dat's Isidore Goulay, las' fall on de Brulé,
He's tak' it firs' prize on de grand ploughin'
match.
Ha! ha! Philomene!-dat was smart trick you
play us
Come help de young feller tak' snow from
hees neck,
Dere's not'ing for hinder you come off de winder
W'en moon you was look for is come, I expec'—
Isidore, he is tole us de news on de parish
'Bout hees Lajeunesse Colt— travel two forty,
sure,
'Bout Jeremie Choquette, come back from
Woonsocket
An' t'ree new leetle twin on Madame Vail-
lancour'.
But nine o'clock strike, an' de chil'ren is sleepy,
Mese'f an' ole woman can't stay up no more
So alone by de fire-'cos dey say dey ain't
tire-
We lef' Philomene an' de young Isidore.
I s'pose dey be talkin' beeg lot on de kitchen
'Bout all de nice moon dey was see on de
sky,
For Philomene's takin' long tam get awaken
Nex' day, she's so sleepy on bote of de eye.
Dat's wan of dem ting's, evry tam on de
fashion,
An' 'bout nices' t'ing dat was never be seen.
Got not'ing for say me—I spark it sam' way
me
W'en I go see de moder ma girl Philomene.
We leev very quiet way back on de contree
Don't put on sam style lak de big village,
W'en we don't get de monee you t'ink dat is
fonny
An' mak' plaintee sport on de Bottes Sau-
vages.
But I tole you-dat's true I don't go on de
If you geev de fine house an' beaucoup
d'argent—
I rader be stay me, an' spen' de las' day me
On farm by de rapide dat's call Cheval Blanc.