For mak' de habitant farmerre—he better go on State—

     An' so wan summer evening we're driving home de cow

     He's tole me all de whole beez-nesse—jus' lak you hear me now.

     "Wat's use mak foolish on de farm? dere's no good chances lef',

     An' all de tam you be poor man—you know dat's true you'se'f;

     We never get no fun at all—don't never go on spree

     Onless we pass on 'noder place, an' mak it some monee.

     "I go on Les Etats-Unis, I go dere right away,

     An' den, mebbe, on ten-twelve year, I be rich man some day,

     An' w'en I mak' de large fortune I come back, I s'pose,

     Wit' Yankee famme from off de State, an' monee on my clothes.

     "I tole you somet'ing else also—mon cher Napoléon—

     I get de grande majorité, for go on parliament,

     Den buil' fine house on borde l'eau—near w'ere de church is stand—

     More finer dan de Presbytère, w'en I am come riche man!"

     I say, "For w'at you spik lak dat? you must be gone crazee.

     Dere's plaintee feller on de State, more smarter dan you be;

     Besides, she's not so healtee place, an' if you mak l'argent,

     You spen' it jus' lak Yankee man, an' not lak habitant.

     "For me, Bateese, I tole you dis: I'm very satisfy—

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