Bateese The Lucky Man

He's alway ketchin' doré, an'he 's alway

  ketchin' trout

On de place w'ere no wan else can ketch at all

He 's alway ketchin' barbotte, dat 's w'at you

  call bull-pout,

An' he never miss de wil' duck on de fall.

O! de pa'tridge do some  skippin' w'en  she see

  heem on de swamp

For she know Bateese don't go for not'ing

  dere,

An' de rabbit if he 's comin' , wall! you ought

  to see heem jomp.

W'y he want to climb de tree he feel so

  scare.

Affer two hour by de reever I hear hees leetle

  song

Den I meet heem all hees pocket full of snipe,

An' me, I go de sam' place, an' I tramp de

  w'ole day long

An' I'm only shootin' two or t'ree, Ba Cripe!

I start about de sun-rise, an' I put out ma

  decoy,

An' before it 's comin' breakfas' , he 's holler

  on hees boy

For carry home two dozen duck or more.

An' I'm freezin' on de blin'-me- from four

  o'clock to nine

An' ev'ry duck she 's passin' up so high.

Dere 's blue-bill an' butter-ball, an' red-head,

  de fines' kin

An' I might as well go shootin' on de sky.

Don't see de noder feller lak Bateese was lucky

  man,

He can ketch de smartes' feesh is never

  sweem,

An' de bird he seldom miss dem, let dem try

  de hard dey can

W'y de eagle on de mountain can't fly

  away from heem.

But all de bird, an' fish too,  is geev'up feelin'

  scare,

An' de rabbit he can stay at home in bed,

For he feesh an' shoot no longer, ole Jean

  Bateese Belair,

  'Cos he 's dead.