Phil-o-rum's Canoe, and Madeleine Vercheres: Two Poems

 
canoe, an' w'en you feel cole an' wet,
Who was your house w'en I 'm upside down,
an' onder de roof you get,
Wit' rain ronnin' down ma back, Baptême! till
I 'm gettin' de rheumateez,
An' I never say not'ing at all moi-meme, but
let you do jus' you please?
 
 
"You t'ink it was right, kip me out all night
on reever side down below,
An' even 'bon soir' you was never say, but
off on de camp you go,
Leffin' your poor ole canoe behin', lyin' dere
on de groun',
Watchin' de moon on de water, an' de bat
flyin' all aroun'?
 
 
"Oh, dat's lonesome t'ing hear de grey owl
sing up on de beeg pine tree!
An' many long night she kip me awake till sun
on de Eas' I see,
An' den you come down on de morning for
start on some more voyage,
An' only t'ing decen' you do all day, is carry
me on portage.
 
 
"Dat 's way, Phil-o-rum, rheumateez she
come, wit' pain ronnin' troo' ma side,
Wan leetle hole here, 'noder beeg wan dere,
dat not'ing can never hide,
Don't do any good feex me up agen, no matter
how moche you try,
For w'en we come ole an' our work she 's
done, bote man an' canoe mus' die."
 
 
Wall, she talk dat way mebbe mos' de day till
we 're passin' some beaver dam,
An' wan de young beaver, he 's mak' hees tail
come down on de water Flam!
I never see de canoe so scare, she jomp nearly
two, t'ree feet,
I t'ink she was goin' for ronne away, an' she
shut up de mout' toute suite.
 
 
It mak' me feel queer, de strange t'ing I hear,
an' I 'm glad she don't spik no more,
But soon as we fin' ourse'f arrive over dere on
de 'noder shore
I tak' dat canoe lak' de lady, an' carry her off
wit' me,
For I 'm sorry de way I 'm treat her, an' she
know more dan me, sapree!
 
 
Yass, dat 's smart canoe, an' I know it 's true,
w'at she 's spikin' wit' me dat day,
I 'm not de young feller I use to be, w'en work
she was only play,