THE CALL OF THE GRAN'DADDY BASS 



When de leetle buds are swellin' from de saps dat 



fill de tree, 

 An' de Canuck goose ees honkin' from de balmy 



southern sea; 

 When de chinnooks heet de woodland from de 



passes on de coast, 

 An' I sell de bonny fur-pelt to de Factor at de 



Post; 

 Oh, I knaw de tam ees comin' when I get dat 



funnee feel 

 To untangle lines an' feesh-hooks from de tackle an' 



de reel. 



When de winter she ees sentenc* to de Nort' where 



she belong, 

 An' de woods are rainbow color an' de matin' call 



ees strong; 

 Eet ees den I packs de snaw-shoe, rolls de log-chain 



in a ball 

 To de chanson half-breeds w'isle as dey mush to 



Montreal. 

 Give me den de rod an' feesh-line, let me patch de 



birch canoe 



Sacre Bleu! 

 236 



