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Title: Dominique
Author: William Henry Drummond [
More Titles by Drummond]
You dunno ma leetle boy Dominique?
Never see heem runnin' roun' about de place?
'Cos I want to get advice how to kip heem lookin' nice,
So he won't be alway dirty on de face--
Now dat leetle boy of mine, Dominique,
If you wash heem an' you sen' heem off to school,
But instead of goin' dere, he was playin' fox an' hare--
Can you tell me how to stop de leetle fool?
"I 'd tak' dat leetle feller Dominique,
An' I 'd put heem on de cellar ev'ry day,
An' for workin' out a cure, bread an' water 's very sure,
You can bet he mak' de promise not to play!"
Dat 's very well to say, but ma leetle Dominique
W'en de jacket we put on heem 's only new,
An' he 's goin' travel roun' on de medder up an' down,
Wit' de strawberry on hees pocket runnin' t'roo,
An' w'en he climb de fence, see de hole upon hees pant,
No wonder hees poor moder 's feelin' mad!
So if you ketch heem den, w'at you want to do, ma frien'?
Tell me quickly an' before he get too bad.
"I 'd lick your leetle boy Dominique,
I 'd lick heem till he 's cryin' purty hard,
An' for fear he 's gettin' spile, I 'd geev' heem castor ile,
An' I would n't let heem play outside de yard."
If you see ma leetle boy Dominique
Hangin' on to poor ole "Billy" by de tail,
W'en dat horse is feelin' gay, lak I see heem yesterday,
I s'pose you t'ink he 's safer on de jail?
W'en I 'm lightin' up de pipe on de evenin' affer work,
An' de powder dat young rascal's puttin' in,
It was makin' such a pouf, nearly blow me t'roo de roof--
W'at 's de way you got of showin' 't was a sin?
"Wall! I put heem on de jail right away,
You may bet de wan is got de beeges' wall!
A honder foot or so, w'ere dey never let heem go,
Non! I would n't kip a boy lak dat at all."
Dat 's good advice for sure, very good,
On de cellar, bread an' water--it 'll do,
De nice sweet castor ile geev' heem ev'ry leetle w'ile,
An' de jail to finish up wit' w'en he 's t'roo!
Ah! ma frien', you never see Dominique,
W'en he 's lyin' dere asleep upon de bed,
If you do, you say to me, "W'at an angel he mus' be,
An' dere can't be not'ing bad upon hees head."
Many t'ank for your advice, an' it may be good for some,
But de reason you was geev' it is n't very hard to seek--
Yass! it 's easy seein' now w'en de talk is over, how
You dunno ma leetle boy Dominique?
[The end]
William Henry Drummond's poem: Dominique
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