Den buil' fine house on borde l'eau—near w'ere de church is stand—
More finer dan de Presbytère, 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;
Besides, 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'?"