Wan beeg yellow dog, an' two small brown wan."

He's feel de more bad I don't see before
W'en he know dat beeg dog, she's wan small deer,
An' for mak' ev'ryt'ing correc' encore
We drink I am sure six bouteilles de biere.

Nex' day--dat's Dimanche--he is spik to me,
"Damase, you mus' feel leetle fatigue,
You may slep' wit' Phileas w'ile I go an' see
I can't get some nice quiet tam to-day."

So for keep 'way skeeter, an' fly also
Bouteille from de shelf M'sieu Smit' he tak',
Den he start wit' his chien boule dog an' go
For nice quiet walk on shore of lac.

We don't slep' half hour w'en dere's beeg, beeg yell,
Lak somet'ing I'm sure don't hear long tam,
An' we see wan feller we cannot tell,
Till he spik it, "Damase! Phileas!! dam dam!!!"

Den we know it at once, mon cher ami,
But she's swell up hees face--hees neck an' han'!
It seem all de skeeter on w'ole contree
Is jump on de head of dat Englishman.

Some water on poor M'sieu Smit' we'll t'row,
An' w'en he's tranquille fin' out ev'ryt'ing;
Bouteille he's rub on, got some nice sirop