road he go— 

 Half o' de journey 's over, half o' de night is pass, W'en Doctor Hilaire stop swearin', an' start to get quiet at las'— Don't do any good ax Johnnie lettin' heem loose again, For if any man tak' de chances, would n't be Johnnie Dufresne. 

 Hooraw for de black horse trotter! hooraw for de feller drive! An' wan leetle cheer for Belzemire dat 's kipin' herse'f alive Till Johnnie is bring de doctor, an' carry heem on de door An' loosen heem out as sober as never he was before. 

 Quiet inside de house now, quiet de outside too, Look at each oder smokin', dat 's about all we do; An' jus' as we feel, ba tonder! no use, we mus' talk or die, Dere on de house we 're hearin' poor leetle baby's cry. 

 Dat 's all, but enough for makin' tear comin' down de face, An' Pierre, if you only see heem jumpin' aroun' de place You 'd t'ink of a colt in spring-tam—den off on de barn we go W'ere somebody got de bottle for drinkin' de healt', you know. 

 Takin' it too moche w'isky, is purty hard job to cure, But only for poor ole w'isky, village of Beausejour Can never have such a doctor, an' dat 's w'y it aint no tam Talk very moche agin it, but fill her up jus' de sam'. 

 An' drink to de baby's moder, here 's to de baby too, An' Doctor Hilaire, anoder, beeger dan all, for you. For sober or drunk, no matter, so long as he understan' It's very bad case is waitin', Doctor Hilaire 's de man. 

 

 

 

 Barbotte (Bull-pout) 

 Dere 's some lak dory, an' some lak bass, An' plaintee dey mus' have trout— An' w'ite feesh too, dere 's quite a few Not satisfy do widout— Very fon' of sucker some folk is, too, But for me, you can go an' cut De w'ole of dem t'roo w'at you call menu, So long as I get barbotte— Ho! Ho! for me it 's de nice barbotte. 

An' plaintee dey mus' have trout—

Not satisfy do widout—

But for me, you can go an' cut

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