A honder foot or so, w'ere dey never let heem go,

     Non! I wouldn't kip a boy lak dat at all."

     Dat's good advice for sure, very good,

     On de cellar, bread an' water—it'll do,

     De nice sweet castor ile geev heem ev'ry leetle w'ile,

     An' de jail to finish up wit' w'en he's t'roo!

     Ah! ma frien', you never see Dominique

     W'en he's lyin' dere asleep upon de bed;

     If you do, you say to me, "W'at an angel he mus' be,

     An' dere can't be not'ing bad upon hees head."

     Many t'ank for your advice, an' it may be good for some,

     But de reason you was geev it isn't very hard to seek—

     Yass! it's easy seein' now, w'en de talk is over, how

     You dunno ma leetle boy Dominique.

   HOW BATEESE CAME HOME

     W'en I was young boy on de farm—dat's twenty year ago—

     I have wan frien', he's leev near me, call Jean Bateese Trudeau,

     An offen, w'en we are alone, we lak for spik about

     De tam w'en we was come beeg man, wit' moustache on our mout'.

     Bateese is get it on hees head he's too moche educate

 Prev. P 17/56 next