168 
Tue Aroostook Woops. 

Hark ! they hear the waters rushing, 
Just below they hear the fall; 
Just above a deer is crossing, 
Yet she lives to rear her fawn. 
The baby deer was just behind her, 
Fearing much to cross at all; 
Then shied back to thicker cover, 
Hark ! hear its mother’s whistling call. 
To escape the rapid’s rockway, 
They must carry near a mile; 
Which to them is only boy play, 
Chatting, marching, single file. 
Through the woodland and the meadows, 
A fourth the distance as by stream ; 
And they stand beside the rapids, 
On the west branch of the same. 
Here they boil the blackened kettle, 
Or its contents, all the same; 
Eat their luncheon, not a little, 
Speckled beauties from the stream. 
Now with a coal light the smoke pipe, 
Then again their jolly quick flight ; 
Down sunny waters, pretty sight, 
Through the rapids with delight. 
Down, down the ever flowing, 
Ever singing, never weary ; 
Gentle zephyrs softly blowing, 
While each cronie greets them cheery. 

