g for-tune, you never see ma face."

Den Emmeline say "Dominique, ma love you'll alway be
An' if you kiss me two, t'ree tam I'll not tole noboddy--
But prenez garde ma fader, please, I know he's gettin' ole--
All sam' he offen walk de house upon de stockin' sole.

"Good-by, good-by, cher Dominique! I know you will be true,
I don't want no riche feller me, ma heart she go wit' you,"
Dat's very quick he's kiss her den, before de fader come,
But don't get too moche pleasurement--so 'fraid de ole Bonhomme.

Wall! jus' about dey're half way t'roo wit all dat love beez-nesse
Emmeline say, "Dominique, w'at for you're scare lak all de res'?
Don't see mese'f moche danger now de ole man come aroun',"
W'en minute affer dat, dere's noise, lak' house she's fallin' down.

Den Emmeline she holler "Fire! will no wan come for me?"
An' Dominique is jomp so high, near bus' de gallerie,--
"Help! help! right off," somebody shout, "I'm killin' on ma place,
It's all de fault ma daughter, too, dat girl she's ma disgrace."

He's kip it up long tam lak dat, but not hard tellin' now,
W'at's all de noise upon de house--who's kick heem up de row?
It seem Bonhomme was sneak aroun' upon de stockin' sole,
An' firs' t'ing den de ole man walk right t'roo de stove pipe hole.

W'en Dominique is see heem dere, wit' wan leg hang below,
An' 'noder leg straight out above, he's glad for ketch heem so--
De ole man can't do not'ing, den, but swear and ax for w'y
Noboddy tak' heem out dat hole before he's comin' die.

Den Dominique he spik lak dis, "Mon cher M'sieur Gourdon
I'm not riche city feller, me, I'm only habitant,
But I was love more I can tole your daughter Emmeline,
An' if I marry on dat girl, Bagosh! she's lak de Queen.

"I want you mak de promise now, before it's come too late,
An' I mus' tole you dis also, dere's not moche tam for wait.
Your foot she's hangin' down so low, I'm 'fraid she ketch de cole,
Wall! if you give me Emmeline, I pull you out de hole."

Dat mak' de ole man swear more hard he never swear before,
An' wit' de foot he's got above, he's kick it on de floor,
"Non, non," he say "Sapre tonnerre! she never marry you,
An' if you don't look out you get de jail on St. Mathieu."

"Correc'," young Dominique is say, "mebbe de jail's tight place,
But you got wan small corner, too, I