An' half of de mornin' she don't spen' dere
Hangin' aroun' de pew—
Bodderin' God wid de long, long prayer—
For bote of dem got to do
Plaintee work 'fore de day's gone by,
An' well she know—Josette—
No matter how busy an' hard she try,
De work 's never finish yet.
An' well he know it, de habitant,
Who is it ketch heem, w'en
He 's drivin' along from St. Laurent—
For it 's easier bargain den—
'Cos if de habitant only sole
De whole of hees load dat way—
Of course he 's savin' de market toll
An' not'ing at all to pay.
Dey call her ole maid, but I can't tell—me—
De chil'ren she has got:
No fader, no moder, dat 's way dey be—
You never see such a lot—
An' if you ax how she fin' de clothes
An' food for de young wan dere—
She say: "Wit' de help of God, I s'pose;
An' de leetle shop down stair."
Comin' an' goin' mos' all de tam,
Helpin' dem all along,
Jus' lak de ole sheep watch de lamb
Till dey are beeg an' strong—
Not'ing lak dat I be seein' yet,
An' it 's hard to beat for sure—
She say: "Wit' de help of God, I s'pose;
An' de leetle shop down stair."
"So dat 's de reason dey call Josette
Leetle sister of de poor."
Comin' an' goin' mos' all de tam,
Helpin' dem all along,
Jus' lak de ole sheep watch de lamb
Till dey are beeg an' strong—
Not'ing lak dat I be seein' yet,
An' it 's hard to beat for sure—
So dat 's de reason dey call Josette
Leetle Sister of de poor.
