An' he's goin' travel roun' on de medder up an' down,

     Wit' de strawberry on hees pocket runnin' t'roo,

     An' w'en he climb de fence, see de hole upon hees pant,

     No wonder hees poor moder's feelin' mad!

     So if you ketch heem den, w'at you want to do, ma frien'?

     Tell me quickly an' before he get too bad.

     "I'd lick your leetle boy Dominique,

     I'd lick heem till he's crying purty hard,

     An' for fear he's gettin' spile, I'd geev' heem castor ile,

     An' I wouldn't let heem play outside de yard."

     If you see ma leetle boy Dominique

     Hangin' on to poor ole "Billy" by de tail,

     W'en dat horse is feelin' gay, lak I see heem yesterday,

     I suppose you t'ink he's safer on de jail?

     W'en I'm lightin' up de pipe on de evenin' affer work,

     An' de powder dat young rascal's puttin' in,

     It was makin' such a pouf, nearly blow me t'roo de roof—

     W'at's de way you got of showin' 'twas a sin?

     "Wall! I put heem on de jail right away,

     You may bet de wan is got de beeges' wall!

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