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William Henry Drummond - Bateese The Lucky Man
Work rating: Medium

He`s alway ketchin` doré, an`he `s alway
   ketchin` trout
 On de place w`ere no wan else can ketch at all
He `s alway ketchin` barbotte, dat `s w`at you
   call bull-pout,
 An` he never miss de wil` duck on de fall.

O! de pa`tridge do some  skippin` w`en  she see
   heem on de swamp
 For she know Bateese don`t go for not`ing
   dere,
An` de rabbit if he `s comin` , wall! you ought
   to see heem jomp.
 W`y he want to climb de tree he feel so 
   scare.

Affer two hour by de reever I hear hees leetle
   song
 Den I meet heem all hees pocket full of snipe,
An` me, I go de sam` place, an` I tramp de
   w`ole day long
 An` I`m only shootin` two or t`ree, Ba Cripe!

I start about de sun-rise, an` I put out ma
   decoy,
 An` before it `s comin` breakfas` , he `s holler
   on hees boy
 For carry home two dozen duck or more.

An` I`m freezin` on de blin`-me- from four
   o`clock to nine
 An` ev`ry duck she `s passin` up so high.
Dere `s blue-bill an` butter-ball, an` red-head,
  de fines` kin
 An` I might as well go shootin` on de sky.

Don`t see de noder feller lak Bateese was lucky
   man,
 He can ketch de smartes` feesh is never
   sweem,
An` de bird he seldom miss dem, let dem try
   de hard dey can
 W`y de eagle on de mountain can`t fly
   away from heem.

But all de bird, an` fish too,  is geev`up feelin`
   scare,
 An` de rabbit he can stay at home in bed,
For he feesh an` shoot no longer, ole Jean
   Bateese Belair,
  `Cos he `s dead.
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