Dr. W. H. Drummond, the noted writer of French-Canadian dialect poems, who died in Cobalt April 6, 1907. One of his most popular poems was "The Wreck of the Julie Plante." Believing that it will prove both
amusing and interesting to the reader we publish it in full :
THE WRECK OF THE JULIE PLANTE
'Twas one dark night on Lac St. Clair,
De wind was "blow," "blow," "blow,"
When de crew on de wood skow "Julie Plante"
Got scare and run below.
For de wind she blow like hurricane,
Bineby she blow some more
When de skow buss up just off Grosee Pointe
Ten acres from the shore.
The captain she's walk on the front deck,
She's walk on the hind deck, too,
She's call the crew from up the hole,
She's call the cook also.
De cook his name was Rosa
He come from Montreal,
Was a chambermaid on a lumber barge
On dat big Lachine Canal.
De wind he's blow from nor' eass' wess'
De sou' wind he's blow too,
When Rosa say, "Oh, Captain,
Whatever shall I do."
De captain she's throw the hank,
But still that skow she drif,
And de crew he can't pass on dat shore
Because he loose dat skiff.
De night was dark like one black cat,
De wave ran high and fass
When the Captain took poor Rosa
And lash her to the mass.
When the Captain put on de life preserve
And he jump into the lac,
And he say, "Good-by, my Rosa dear,
I go down for your sak.
Next morning vary hearly,
About half-past two, three, four,
De Captain, cook and wood skow
Lay corpses on dat shore.
For the wind she blow like hurricane,
Bimeby she blow some more,
For dat skow buss up just hoff Grosee Pointe
Ten hacres from de shore.
Now all good wood skow sailor mans,
Take lesson by that storm
And go and marry nice French gal
And live on Grosee Pointe farm.
Den the wind may blow like hurricane
And spose she's blow some more,
You can't get drowned on Lac St. Clair
So long you stop on shore.