Hssh! look at ba-bee on de leetle blue chair,
W'at you t'ink he 's tryin' to do?
Wit' pole on de han' lak de lumberman,
A-shovin' along canoe.
Dere 's purty strong current behin' de stove,
W'ere it 's passin' de chimley-stone,
But he 'll come roun' yet, if he don't upset,
So long he was lef' alone.
Dat 's way ev'ry boy on de house begin
No sooner he 's twelve mont' ole;
He 'll play canoe up an' down de Soo
An' paddle an' push de pole,
Den haul de log all about de place,
Till dey 're fillin' up mos' de room,
An' say it 's all right, for de storm las' night
Was carry away de boom.
Mebbe you see heem, de young loon bird,
Wit' half of de shell hangin' on,
Tak' hees firse slide to de water side,
An' off on de lake he 's gone.
Out of de cradle dey 're goin' sam' way
On reever an' lake an' sea;
For born to de trade, dat 's how dey 're made,
De familee Laramie.
An' de reever she 's lyin' so handy dere
On foot of de hill below,
Dancin' along an' singin' de song
As away to de sea she go,
No wonder I never can lak dat song,
For soon it is comin', w'en
Dey 'll lissen de call, leetle Pierre an' Paul,
An' w'ere will de moder be den?
She 'll sit by de shore w'en de evenin's come,
An' spik to de reever too:
"O reever, you know how dey love you so,
Since ever dey 're seein' you,
For sake of dat love bring de leetle boy home
Once more to de moder's knee."
An' mebbe de prayer I be makin' dere
Will help bring dem back to me.