De bes' man don't leev too long tam; some day, ba gosh! he die—

     An' s'pose you got good trotter horse, an' nice famme Canadienne

     Wit' plaintee on de house for eat—W'at more you want, ma frien'?"

     But Bateese have it all mak' up, I can't stop him at all.

     He's buy, etc., seconde classe tiquette, for go on Central Fall,

     An' wit' two-t'ree some more de boy—w'at t'ink de sam' he do—

     Pass on de train de very nex' wick, was lef' Rivière du Loup.

     Wall! mebbe fifteen year or more since Bateese go away

     I fin' meself Rivière du Loup, wan cole, cole winter day.

     De quick express she come, horraw! but stop de soon she can,

     An' beeg swell feller jomp off car, dat's boss by nigger man.

     He's dressim on de première classe, an' got new suit of clothes

     Wit' long moustache dat's stickin' out, de 'noder side hees nose,

     Fine gol' watch chain—nice portmanteau—an' long, long overcoat

     Wit beaver hat—dat's Yankee style—an' red tie on hees t'roat—

     I say, "Hello, Bateese! Hello! Comment ça va, mon vieux?"

     He say, "Excuse to me, ma frien', I t'ink I don't know you."

     I say, "She's very curis t'ing, you are Bateese Trudeau,

     Was raise on just sam' place wit' me, dat's fifteen year ago?"

     He say, "Oh yass, dat's sure enough—I know you now firs'-rate;

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