An' den she measure dat sash on me,
An' I fin' it so long an' wide
I pass it aroun' her, an' dere we stan',
De two of us bote inside—
"Could n't be better, ma chère Marie,
Dat sash it is fit so well—
It jus' suit you, an' it jus' suit me,
An' bote togeder, ma belle."
So I wear it off on de weddin' tour
An' long after dat also,
An' never a minute I 'm carin' how
De win' of de winter blow—
Don't matter de cole an' frosty night—
Don't matter de stormy day,
So long as I 'm feex up close an' tight
Wit' de ole ceinture fleché.
An' w'ere 's de woman can beat her now,
Ma own leetle girl Marie?
For we 're marry to-day jus' feefty year
An' never a change I see—
But wan t'ing strange, dough I try ma bes'
For measure dat girl wance more,
She say—"Go off wit' de foolishness,
Or pass on de outside door.
"You know well enough dat sash get tight
Out on de snow an' wet
Drivin' along on ev'ry place,
Den how can it fit me yet?
Shows w'at a fool you be, Narcisse,
W'enever you go to town;
Better look out, or I call de pries'
For makin' you stan' aroun'."
But me, I 'm sure it was never change,
Dat sash on de feefty year—
An' I can't understan' to-day at all,
W'at 's makin' it seem so queer—
De sash is de sam', an' woman too,
Can't fool me, I know too well—
But woman, of course dey offen do
Some funny t'ing—you can't tell!
Doctor Hilaire
A stranger might say if he see heem drink till he almos' fall,
"Doctor lak dat for sick folk, he 's never no use at all,"
But wait till you hear de story dey 're tellin' about heem yet,
An' see if you don't hear somet'ing, mebbe you won't forget.