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William Henry Drummond - The Corduroy Road
Work rating: Low

De corduroy road go bompety bomp,
De corduroy road go jompety jomp,
An` he` s takin`beeg chances upset hees load
De horse dat `ll trot on de corduroy road.

Of course it`s purty rough, but it`s handy
            t`ing enough
An` dey mak` it wit` de log all jine togeder
W`en deystrek de swampy groun` w` ere de
            Water hang aroun`
Or passin`by some tough ole beaver medder.

But it` s not macadamize, so if you`re only
            wise
You will tak` your tam an` never min` de
            worry
For de corduroy is bad, an` will mak` you
            plaintee mad
By de way de buggy jomp, in case you hurry.

An` I` m sure you don`t expec` leetle Victorine 
            Leveque
She was knowin` moche at all about dem 
            places, 
`Cos she`s never dere before, till young Zeph-
            irin Madore
He was takin` her away for see de races.

O, I wish you see her den, dat`s before she
            marry, w` en
She`s de fines` on de lan` but no use talkin`
I can bet you w`at you lak, if you meet her
            you look back
Jus` to watch de fancy way dat girl is walkin`.

Yass de leetle Victorine was de nices` girl be-
            tween
De town of Yamachiche an` Maskinongé,
But she`s stuck up an` she`s proud, an` you `ll
            never count de crowd
Of de boy she geev` it w`at dey call de congé.

Ah! De moder spoil her sure, for even Joe
            D`Amour
W`en he`s ready nearly ev`ry t`ing to geev
            her
If she mak` de mariée, only say,  "please go
            away"
An`  he`s riches habitant along de reever.

Zephirin he try it too, an` he`s workin` some-
            t`ing new
For he`s  makin` de ole woman many presen`
Prize package on de train, umbrella for de rain
But she` s grompy all de tam, an` never
            pleasan`.

Wall, w`en he ax Ma-dame tak` de girl away
            dat tam
See dem races on Sorel wit`  all de trotter
De moder say  "All right if you bring her
	home to-night
Before de cow`smilk, I let go, ma
            daughter."

So Victorin she go wit` Zephirin her beau
On de yankee buggy mak` it on St. Bruno
An` w`en dey pass hotel on de middle of Sorel
Dey`re puttin` on de beeges` style dat you
            know.

Wall! dey got some good horse dere, but
            Zephirin don`t care
He`s back it up hees own paroisse, ba golly,
An` he mak` it t`ree doll-arr w`en Maskinongé
            Star
On de two mile heat was beatin` Sorel Molly.

Victorin don`t min` at all, till de  "free for
            all"  dey call
Dat`s de las`  race dey was run before de snow fly
Den she say  "I t`ink de cow mus`be getting`
            home soon now
An` you know it`s only clock ole woman go by.

An` if  we`re comin`late w`en de cow pass on
            de gate
You`ll be sorry if you hear de way she talk
            dere,
So w`en I see de race on Sorel or any place
After dis, you may be sure I got to walk dere."


Den he laugh dat Zephirin, an` he say  "Your
            poor mama
I know de pile she t`ink about her daughter
So we`ll tak` de sshort road back on de cor-
            duroy race track
Don`t matter if we got to sweem de water."

No wonder he is smile till you hear heem half
            a mile
For  dat morning he was tole hees leetle broder
Let de cattle out de gate, so he know it`s
            purty late
By de tam dem cow was findin` out each oder.

So along de corduroy de young girl an` de boy
Dey was kipin` up a joggin` nice an` steady
It is n`t heavy load,  an` Guillaume he know de
            road
For many tam he`s been dat way already.

But de girl she fin` it slow, so she ax de boy
            to go
Somet`ing better dan a mile on fifteen minute
An` he`s touch heem up Guillaume; so dat
            horse he lay for home
an` de nex` t`ing Victorine she know she`s
            in it.

"O, pull him in, "she yell, "for even on Sorel
I am sure I never see de quicker racer,"
But it`s leetle bit too late, for de horse is get
            hees gait
an` de worse of all ba gosh! Guillaume`s a 
            pacer.

See hees tail upon de air, no wonder she was
            scare
But she hang on lak de winter on T`ree
            Reever
Cryin` out- "please hol` me tight, or I`m
            comin`dead to-night
An` ma poor ole moder dear, I got to leave 
            her."

Wit`her arm aroun` hees wais`: she was doin`
            it in case
She bus`her head, or keel herse`f, it`s not so
            easy sayin`
Dey was comin` on de jomp t`roo dat dam ole
            beaver swamp
An` meet de crowd is lookin` for dem cow was
            go a-stayin`.

Den she`s cryin`, Victorine, for she`s knowin`
            w`at it mean
De parish dey was talkin` firse chances dey be
            gettin`,
But no sooner dat young man stop de horse, 
            he tak` her han`
An` w`isper "never min`, ma chere, won`t do
            no good a-frettin`."

Non! she is n`t cryin` long, for he tole her it
            was wrong
She `s sure he save her life too, or she was
            moche mistaken,
An` de ole Ma-dame Leveque also kiss heem,
            on de neck
An`quickly affer dat Hooraw! de man an` wife
            dey`re makin`.
Source
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