The Norsk Nightingale; Being the Lyrics of a "Lumberyack"

Little Steena Yohnson

Ay ban tenking lots of yu, Little Steena Yohnson, Ay ban sure yu love me true, Little Steena Yohnson. Oder geezers lak to play In yure yard, but yu skol say, "Ay don't lak yu fallers, nay!" Little Steena Yohnson.

Some day yu skol be my vife, Little Steena Yohnson: Ay ban glad, yu bet yure life, Little Steena Yohnson. Ay ban vork lak nigger, tu, Yumping 'round vith treshing crew; Ay skol building home for yu, Little Steena Yohnson.

Maybe ve skol saving dough, Little Steena Yohnson; Back to Norvay ve skol go, Little Steena Yohnson-- Back var dis har midnight sun Shining lak a son of a gun; Ant yu tenk dis har ban fun, Little Steena Yohnson?

Olaf

Yust two years ago last venter Ay meet Olaf op in camp; Ve ban lumberyacks togedder. Every morning we skol tramp 'Bout sax miles yust after breakfast Till we come to big pine-trees; Den our straw boss he skol make us Vork lak little busy bees.

Olaf, he ban yolly faller, He skol taling yoke all day; Sometimes he sing dis har ragtime, Yust to passing time avay. And at night, ven we ban smoking After supper, he skol make All us lumberyacks to laughing Till our belts skol nearly break.

Me and Olaf bunked together, And sometimes he taling me 'Bout his vife and little Torger, Who ban living cross big sea. "Ay ban saving dough," say Olaf; "And next summer, ef ay can, Ay skol send for vife and baby; Den ay ban a happy man!"

One night Olaf getting letter Ven we coming back to camp; He yust tal me, "Little Torger," And his eyes ban gude and damp. Dis ban how ay know vy Olaf Never taling no more yoke,-- Vy he yust sit down at night-time, Close by me, var he skol smoke.

"YENNIE DEAR"

Vy yu mak my heart to yump, Yennie dear? Ay ban yust a fulish chump, Yennie dear. Yu ban sveet lak summer rose, Lak a qveen from head to toes. Ay ant fit for you, ay s'pose, Yennie dear.

Yu ban gude the whole day long, Yennie dear; Yu ant never du no wrong, Yennie dear. Ay ban tuff old lumberyack, Taking drenk yust ven ay lak, Getting slugged and slugging back, Yennie dear.

But ven ay ban tenk of yu, Yennie dear, Ay ban all made over new, Yennie dear, Ef ay have yu at my side, Ef yu ban my little bride, Ay skol let dese fallers slide, Yennie dear.

Oh, ay need yu in my life, Yennie dear; Ef ay have an anyel vife, Yennie dear, Maybe ay can learn to be Part lak anyel, tu, yu see; But it ban big yob for me, Yennie dear.

"PEEK-A-BOO"

"Peek-a-boo!" say little Olaf. "Yu can't find me. Ay ban hid." Den ay used to look all over For my little blue-eyed kid. Op in attic, down in cellar, Back of chairs on parlor floor; Den he used to laugh, and tal me, "Ay ban back of kitchen door."

"Peek-a-boo!" he used to tal me. "Shut yure eyes, and don't you peek!" Den ay feel his arms around me And his kisses on my cheek. "Now ay'm hiding, dad," he tal me! "Maybe, ef you look some more, Yu skol find yure little Olaf-- Ay ban back of kitchen door."

"Peek-a-boo!" ay hear him calling, Lak he called long time ago. Var ban little Olaf hiding? Maybe anyel fallers know. Tousand times ay look to find him Hiding back of kitchen door, But ay only see some shadows: Ay can't find him any more.

Sonnet on Stewed Prunes

Ay ant lak pie-plant pie so wery vell; Ven ay skol eat ice-cream, my yaws du ache; Ay ant much stuck on dis har yohnnie-cake Or crackers yust so dry sum peanut shell. And ven ay eat dried apples, ay skol svell Until ay tenk my belt skol nearly break; And dis har breakfast food, ay tenk, ban fake: Yim Dumps ban boosting it, so it skol sell. But ay tal yu, ef yu vant someteng fine, Someteng so sveet lak wery sveetest honey, Vith yuice dat taste about lak nice port vine, Only it ant cost hardly any money,-- Ef yu vant someteng yust lak anyel fude, Yu try stewed prunes. By yiminy! dey ban gude.

A Good Fellow

Dey tal me ay ban a gude faller. Ay guess dey ban right; but, yee whiz! Ef yu ever ban a gude faller, Yu know 'bout how costly it is. Ay vork op in voods since Nowember, And ban op on drive all the spring, And den ay com down har in city And vatch all my riches tak ving.

Oh, yes, ay ban yolly gude faller,-- All venter ay eat pork and beans; Ay only ban har since last Monday, Now ay ant got cent in my yeans. Dese geezers dat call me "Old Stocking," And pat me lak hal on the back, Skol give me gude snub 'bout to-morrow, And calling me "slob lumberyack!"

Ay meet bunch of fallers last Monday, Yust after ay cashing my check; Ay s'pose dat ay have it all coming. Val, ay getting it gude, right in neck. Ay meet little blonde, her name's Yulia, Ay tenk dis har Yulia ban Yew; She touch me for 'bout saxty dollars, And little gold watch ay have, tu.

But Yulia she call me gude faller, Ay s'pose she tenk dat vill help some; And all of dem call me gude faller, And helping to put me on bum. Val, back to the pines, Maester Olaf, And driving yure old team of mules. Put dis in yure pipe, tu, and smoke it: Gude fallers ban mostly dam fules.

"IT'S UP TO YOU"

Ay s'pose yu tenk life ban hard game. Ay guess yu lak to qvit, perhaps. Ay hear yu say, "It ban a shame To see so many lucky chaps." Yu say, "Dese guys ban mostly yaps: Ay vish ay had some money, tu, And not get all dese gude hard raps." Val, Maester, it ban op to yu.

Sometimes ay s'pose yu vork long hours, And ant get wery fancy pay; Den yu can't buying stacks of flowers And feed yure girl in gude café, And drenk yin rickies and frappé. Oh, yes! dis mak yu purty blue. Yu lak to have more fun, yu say? Val, Maester, it ban op to yu.

Dis vorld ant got much room to spare For men vich make dis hard-luck cry,-- 'Bout von square foot vile dey ban har, And six feet after dey skol die. Time "fugit,"--high-school vord for "fly"; And purty sune yure chance ban tru. So, ef yu lak to stack chips high, Val, Maester, it ban op to yu.

Horatius at the Bridge

Horatius ban brave yentleman, Who vatch big bridge at night: It ban gude many years ago, Ay ant got date yust right. Dar ban some foxy geezers Who march avay from home, And tenk they having qvite gude chance To raise some hal in Rome.

Lars Porsena ban starting it,-- Ay tenk Lars ban a Svede; He raise 'bout tousand soldiers, And put himself in lead. Then he began tu marching, And all his frends march, tu, Till they skol come almost to Rome, Var dey skol rest a few.

Then op spake Maester Horatius, Captain of dis har gate: "To every yackass on dis earth Death coming sune or late. So how can ay die better Than vatching bridge, yu say? Now who skol standing on my front And vatching bridge vith me?"

Then Maester Laertus Larson, A scrapper fine ban he, Say, "Ay skol standing on yure back, But not on front, by yee!" And old Herminius Hermanson-- He ban gude fighter, tu, Say, "Ay skol taking little smash At dese har Svedes vith yu!"

So ven dis Maester Porsena Ban come to big bridge gate, He sees three husky lumberyacks, And know he come tu late. But Lars, he ant ban qvitter, He send 'bout saxteen men To taking bridge,--by yiminy, Dey ant come back again!

While old Horatius and his frends Ban vatching bridge so gude, Some aldermen on oder shore Ban sawing planty vood. Ay tal yu, ven dese boodlers Ban start to tear tengs down, Dar ant no better vorkers Novere in whole dam town.

So ven dis bridge start falling, Horatius' frends yump back; And he skol stand alone dar-- He ban brave lumberyack. Then he yump into Tiber, And say, "Ay skol svim home!" Dis har ban how Horatius Skol turn gude trick for Rome.

William Tell

Dar ban a man named Villiam Tell Who ban a qvite gude shot. Ay bet yu, ven he tak nice aim, He alvays hit the spot. Ay s'pose he hunting every day And killing lots of game; Ef he ban missing such a chance, Ay tenk it ban a shame.

Some fallers yump on him von day, And taking him to yail, And tal him he skol have to pay Sax tousand dollars' bail. "Yeew hiz!" say Tell. "Sax tousand bones! Ay ant got saxty cents!" And so dey mak him breaking stones Behind big iron fence.

Den Olaf Gessler say to him: "Bill, yu ban qvite gude shot, So ay skol give yu yust von chance To vinning nice yack pot. Yure son ban purty brave young kid; Ay tell yu, on the dead, Yu skol go free ef you can shoot Dis apple off his head."

"Yerusalem!" say Bill, "ef you Skol give me drenk of bock, Ay bet yu ay can shoot dis fruit Off little Yimmie's block; But, ef ay shoot tu low, val, den Yust sidestep qvick, by heck, Or yu skol finding little bunch Of arrows in yure neck!"