PREFACE

It is with a certain amount of misgiving that the author sends out this little volume of Scandinavian dialect verses. To the residents of Northern Wisconsin and Minnesota, where the "lumberyack" lives and thrives, the dialect will seem familiar enough; but to other readers such terms as "skol" (shall or will), "ban" (been), "panga" (money), "sum" (than or as), may convey little or no meaning.

But, if the Scandinavian dialect verses are not widely popular, they are at least comparatively fresh and original; and to those readers who can readily grasp the patois, as well as to those who are compelled to struggle painfully through its labyrinths, this volume is respectfully dedicated.

CONTENTS

PREFACE

HIS LYRICS

"YIM"

TILLIE OLSON

THE "LUMBERYACK"

LITTLE STEENA YOHNSON

OLAF

"YENNIE DEAR"

"PEEK-A-BOO"

SONNET ON STEWED PRUNES

A GOOD FELLOW

"IT'S UP TO YOU"

HIS HISTORICAL TALES

HORATIUS AT THE BRIDGE

WILLIAM TELL

THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

ROBINSON CRUSOE

GEORGE WASHINGTON

PAUL REVERE

WATERLOO

BARBARA FRIETCHIE

SHERIDAN'S RIDE

HIS POETICAL TRANSLATIONS

SPEAK GENTLY

THE BAREFOOT BOY

FATHER WILLIAM

ABOU SWEN ANSON

MAUD MULLER

LUCY GRAY

STEALING A RIDE

"CURFEW SHALL NOT RING TO-NIGHT"

A PSALM OF LIFE

ANNIE LAURIE

THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE

EXCELSIOR

MORTALITY

THE DAY IS DONE

"YIM"

Dar ban a little faller, Ay tenk his name ban Yim, And nearly every morning Ay used to seeing him. He used to stand in gatevay, And call me Svede, and ay Ant lak to hear dis nickname: Ay ban a Norsk, yu say.

But he ban little faller, Ay tenk 'bout sax years old, And so ay used to lak him— He ban too small to scold. Ay used to say, "Val, Yimmie, Ay ant ban Svede, but yu Can call me Svede,—ay lak yu And ant care vat yu du."

By Yeorge! Ay'm glad, ay tal yu, Dat ay ban gude to him, Because one venter morning Ay ant see little Yim. And next day funeral vagon Com driving op to door, And Yim, poor little faller, Can't call me Svede no more!

TILLIE OLSON

Little Tillie Olson Ban my little pearl; God ant never making Any nicer girl. Dis har Qveen of Sheba, She ban nice to see; But little Tillie Olson Ban gude enuff for me.

Ay ban yust a svamper Vorking op in voods; Ay ant ever having Much of dis vorld's goods. Ay know lots of ladies Var ay used to be, But little Tillie Olson Ban gude enuff for me.

Over in Chicago 'Bout sax veeks ago, Torger Yohnson tak me Out to see nice show. Chorus girls ban dancing Purty fine, by yee; But little Tillie Olson Ban gude enuff for me.

Ven ve sit by fireplace Op at Tillie's house, She ban cuddling near me, Yust lak little mouse. After ve ban married, Happy ve skol be. Yas, little Tillie Olson Ban gude enuff for me.

THE "LUMBERYACK"

"Roll out!" yell cookee "It ban morning," say he, "It ban daylight in svamps, all yu guys!" So out of varm bunk Ve skol falling kerplunk, And rubbing lak blazes our eyes. Breakfast, den hustle; dinner, den yump! Lumberyack faller ban yolly big chump.

"Eat qvick!" say the cook. "Oder fallers skol look For chance to get grub yust lak yu!" So under our yeans Ve pack planty beans, And Yim dandy buckvheat cakes, tu. Den out on the skidvay, vorking lak mule. Lumberyack faller ban yolly big fule.

"Vatch out!" foreman say. Den tree fall yure vay, And missing yure head 'bout an inch. Ef timber ban green, Ve skol rub kerosene On places var coss cut skol pinch. Sawing and chopping, freeze and den sveat. Lumberyack faller ban yackass, yu bet.

Ven long com the spring, Ve drenk and we sing; And calling town faller gude frend, He help us to blow Our whole venter's dough, But ant got no panga to lend. Drenk and headache, headache and drenk. Lumberyack faller ban sucker, ay tenk.

LITTLE STEENA YOHNSON

Ay ban tenking lots of yu, Little Steena Yohnson, Ay ban sure yu love me true, Little Steena Yohnson. Oder geezers lak to play In yure yard, but yu skol say, "Ay don't lak yu fallers, nay!" Little Steena Yohnson.

Some day yu skol be my vife, Little Steena Yohnson: Ay ban glad, yu bet yure life, Little Steena Yohnson. Ay ban vork lak nigger, tu, Yumping 'round vith treshing crew; Ay skol building home for yu, Little Steena Yohnson.

Maybe ve skol saving dough, Little Steena Yohnson; Back to Norvay ve skol go, Little Steena Yohnson— Back var dis har midnight sun Shining lak a son of a gun; Ant yu tenk dis har ban fun, Little Steena Yohnson?

OLAF

Yust two years ago last venter Ay meet Olaf op in camp; Ve ban lumberyacks togedder. Every morning we skol tramp 'Bout sax miles yust after breakfast Till we come to big pine-trees; Den our straw boss he skol make us Vork lak little busy bees.

Olaf, he ban yolly faller, He skol taling yoke all day; Sometimes he sing dis har ragtime, Yust to passing time avay. And at night, ven we ban smoking After supper, he skol make All us lumberyacks to laughing Till our belts skol nearly break.

Me and Olaf bunked together, And sometimes he taling me 'Bout his vife and little Torger, Who ban living cross big sea. "Ay ban saving dough," say Olaf; "And next summer, ef ay can, Ay skol send for vife and baby; Den ay ban a happy man!"

One night Olaf getting letter Ven we coming back to camp; He yust tal me, "Little Torger," And his eyes ban gude and damp. Dis ban how ay know vy Olaf Never taling no more yoke,— Vy he yust sit down at night-time, Close by me, var he skol smoke.

"YENNIE DEAR"

Vy yu mak my heart to yump, Yennie dear? Ay ban yust a fulish chump, Yennie dear. Yu ban sveet lak summer rose, Lak a qveen from head to toes. Ay ant fit for you, ay s'pose, Yennie dear.

Yu ban gude the whole day long, Yennie dear; Yu ant never du no wrong, Yennie dear. Ay ban tuff old lumberyack, Taking drenk yust ven ay lak, Getting slugged and slugging back, Yennie dear.

But ven ay ban tenk of yu, Yennie dear, Ay ban all made over new, Yennie dear, Ef ay have yu at my side, Ef yu ban my little bride, Ay skol let dese fallers slide, Yennie dear.

Oh, ay need yu in my life, Yennie dear; Ef ay have an anyel vife, Yennie dear, Maybe ay can learn to be Part lak anyel, tu, yu see; But it ban big yob for me, Yennie dear.

"PEEK-A-BOO"

"Peek-a-boo!" say little Olaf. "Yu can't find me. Ay ban hid." Den ay used to look all over For my little blue-eyed kid. Op in attic, down in cellar, Back of chairs on parlor floor; Den he used to laugh, and tal me, "Ay ban back of kitchen door."

"Peek-a-boo!" he used to tal me. "Shut yure eyes, and don't you peek!" Den ay feel his arms around me And his kisses on my cheek. "Now ay'm hiding, dad," he tal me! "Maybe, ef you look some more, Yu skol find yure little Olaf— Ay ban back of kitchen door."

"Peek-a-boo!" ay hear him calling, Lak he called long time ago. Var ban little Olaf hiding? Maybe anyel fallers know. Tousand times ay look to find him Hiding back of kitchen door, But ay only see some shadows: Ay can't find him any more.

SONNET ON STEWED PRUNES

Ay ant lak pie-plant pie so wery vell; Ven ay skol eat ice-cream, my yaws du ache; Ay ant much stuck on dis har yohnnie-cake Or crackers yust so dry sum peanut shell. And ven ay eat dried apples, ay skol svell Until ay tenk my belt skol nearly break; And dis har breakfast food, ay tenk, ban fake: Yim Dumps ban boosting it, so it skol sell. But ay tal yu, ef yu vant someteng fine, Someteng so sveet lak wery sveetest honey, Vith yuice dat taste about lak nice port vine, Only it ant cost hardly any money,— Ef yu vant someteng yust lak anyel fude, Yu try stewed prunes. By yiminy! dey ban gude.

A GOOD FELLOW

Dey tal me ay ban a gude faller. Ay guess dey ban right; but, yee whiz! Ef yu ever ban a gude faller, Yu know 'bout how costly it is. Ay vork op in voods since Nowember, And ban op on drive all the spring, And den ay com down har in city And vatch all my riches tak ving.

Oh, yes, ay ban yolly gude faller,— All venter ay eat pork and beans; Ay only ban har since last Monday, Now ay ant got cent in my yeans. Dese geezers dat call me "Old Stocking," And pat me lak hal on the back, Skol give me gude snub 'bout to-morrow, And calling me "slob lumberyack!"

Ay meet bunch of fallers last Monday, Yust after ay cashing my check; Ay s'pose dat ay have it all coming. Val, ay getting it gude, right in neck. Ay meet little blonde, her name's Yulia, Ay tenk dis har Yulia ban Yew; She touch me for 'bout saxty dollars, And little gold watch ay have, tu.

But Yulia she call me gude faller, Ay s'pose she tenk dat vill help some; And all of dem call me gude faller, And helping to put me on bum. Val, back to the pines, Maester Olaf, And driving yure old team of mules. Put dis in yure pipe, tu, and smoke it: Gude fallers ban mostly dam fules.