Oh boys stop your sawing and put down your axe,

I’ll tell you a sad yarn, and give you the facts.

T’was late in May and year fifty-one,

We started dam-building and this story begun.

Our fine crew of men were one dozen strong,

There was lee and Claude Lush, Steve Furey and Tom,

There was Ted Mills and Ned, and Gus and Big Ben,

Bert Downey was there but he went out again.

This was our brave crew when we made our start

Including John Hurley, and his dear brother Art.

Tom Shelley and Roy came in from the Bay,

And the old camp ten traitor, he joined us next day.

It was a sad story as I told you before,

When we went down with Purchase at camp 24

And cut our first trail it was 3 miles long

to build the first dam on the eight mile pond.

You should see us the next morning all clearing away,

The beaver got shamed, and he left so they say.

Then we built up the wings on the north and south shore,

And I don’t think the beaver will be back anymore.

We put a few nicknames on some of our crew,

You should see the ole Latrop when he had in a chew.

And Rennard and Torbay when using a axe,

And Old Universal who made the queer tracks.

Then we left 24, and westward we went

To camp 27 to sleep in a tent.

T’was there we learned fighting, lying there on the ground.

And sung all the songs with the rain pouring down.

T’was there Furey left us, and took Jack along

To go build a camp at freshwater pond.

William Kelly than joined us our teamster was he

Until the big scrimmage at camp twenty-three.

When we left 27 oh what a hard time,

we can't get a truck, we must walk down the line.

We cant take our blankets, the tools or the dray,

Oh get Sheppard’s horse he’s a tractor they say.

We hooked up the tractor, and we tramped on behind,

To Jack Baileys cuttings through the mud and the slime.

I think Sheppard’s horse at the end of the drag,

was less like a tractor and more like a nag.

Then at Bailey’s Cuttings we laid down the load,

and wiped of the sweat by the side of the road.

The road boss got angry, and started to swear,

But he sent us a truck or we’d have always been there.

At camp 23 I’ll tell you the truth,

They picked on poor Kelly for having no boots.

T’was get out in the water or you’ll get your time,

"go to hell sir," said Kelly, " I can go down the line."

So then Clifford Mills our teamster was made,

From college he came, a teacher by trade.

Hauling gravel and logs he wasn’t so bad,

If he gets paid for Sundays he’ll be a smart lad.

Our cooks Percy Short, and Francis Newbury by name,

If you didn’t get fat, there was no one to blame.

There was Big Ben and Gus , they sure ate a lot,

and Purchase isn’t sure if they earns it or not.

T’was up to Red Cliff the grizz aim arose,

Twas Art and the skipper and it near came to blows.

They say that the cabling was all out of line,

And the end of the row Brother Art got his time.

We all know that Arthur was not in the wrong,

And it wasn’t the same with the old Latrop gone.

But we heard he’d been talking to the walking boss Pat,

And before very long Brother Art would be back.

The Skipper was cranky, the water was deep,

The cobbling was flat or else t’was too steep.

T’was dig it down farther or else haul it back,

And go cut another, bring it out on your back.

The one that we cut was a little too big,

The Boss said to Benny "I do what I can,

but for two feet of water you got the wrong man."

Now one of your gang you know whose to blame,

He says to the Skipper " I know it’s a shame,

But that’s a fine pair of boots that you have on there."

The answer he got I just can’t mention here.

So for a few days no joking was done,

And nothing was said at least not for fun,

With the Skipper so sour we each did our part

Afraid we’d join Kelly or else brother Art.

And then camp 15 where the grub it was poor,

You should hear Harry Lacey call out from the door,

"oh come to the cook-house come boys right away,

for you’ll got no milk in your lunch box today.

The Boss looks quite smart in his old army pants,

And if he returns Uncle Ned has a chance,

And he’ll have his red coat on the next time he builds dams,

And Ben and poor Gus won't be in on his plans.

Now We’ve finished the dams and we’ve cut out the brook,

I hope you will pardon the time that it took.

To tell you this story of sweat and hard work,

Good luck to all loggers in the woods at Baie Verte.