Jus' tell dem de news of Gédéon Plouffe—
How he jump wit' de familee
An' strike w'en de bugle is raise de roof
For home an' hees own contree.
Getting Stout
Eighteen, an' face lak de—w'at 's de good?
Dere 's no use tryin' explain
De way she 's lookin', dat girl Marie—
But affer it pass, de rain,
An' sun come out of de cloud behin',
An' laugh on de sky wance more—
Wall! dat is de way her eye it shine
W'en she see me upon de door.
An' dere she 's workin' de ole-tam sash,
De fines' wan, too, for sure.
"Who is it for, ma belle Marie—
You 're makin' de nice ceinture?
Come out an' sit on de shore below,
For watchin' dem draw de net,
Ketchin' de feesh," an' she answer, "No,
De job is n't finish yet;
"Stan' up, Narcisse, an' we 'll see de fit.
Dat sash it was mak' for you,
For de ole wan 's gettin' on, you know,
An' o' course it 'll never do
If de boy I marry can't go an' spen'
W'at dey 're callin' de weddin' tour
Wit' me, for visitin' all hees frien',
An' not have a nice ceinture."