The Complete And Wonderful Aurele Joliat Poem.

It turns out that the old poem I ran here about a year ago was only a portion of it with seven verses. Thanks to a fellow who wrote in named Phil Allan, this is the complete version, eighteen verses, of the delightful old school poem about Aurele Joliat. Like I said about the earlier version, prepare to smile.

Monsieur Joliat by Wilson MacDonald

Boston she ‘ave good ‘ockey team;
Dose Maple Leafs ees nice.
But Les Canadiens ees bes’
Dat hever skate de hice.

Morenz ‘e go lak’ one beeg storm;
Syl Mantha’s strong and fat.
Dere all ver’ good, but none ees quite
So good as Joliat.

I know heem well; ‘e ees ma frien’;
I doan know heem himsel’;
But I know man dat know a man
Who know heem very well.

Enfant! Dat Joliat ees full
Of hevery kind of treek.
He talk heem ‘ockey all de day
And sleep heem wit’ hees stick.

He’s small but ‘e ees bothersome
Lak’ ceender in de heye.
Maroons all yell: “Go get som’ Flit’
And keel dat leetle fly.”

Garcon ‘e’s slippery; oui, oui-
Lak’ leetle piece of soap.
I tink nex’ time I watch dat boy
I use a telescope.

He’s good on poke-heem-check, he is;
He’s better on attack.
He run against beeg Conacher
And trow heem on hees back.

He weegle jus’ lak’ fish-worm do
Wen eet ees on a hook;
An’ wen he pass de beeg defence
Dey have one seely look.

He weigh one hundred feefty pound.
Eef he were seex feet tall
He’d score one hundred goal so queek
Dere’d be no game at all.

Wen I am tired of travail-trop
I put on coat of coon
And go to see Canadiens
Mak’ meence-meat of Maroon.

When Joliat skate out I yell
Unteel I have a pain.
I trow my ‘at up in de hair
And shout, “Harrah,” again.

“Shut up, Pea Soup,” an Henglishman
Sarcastic say to me;
So I turn round to heem and yell,
“Shut up, you Cup of Tea.”

Dat was a ver’ exciting game;
De score it was a tie;
An’ den dat leetle Joliat
Get hanger een hees eye.

He tak’ a poock at hodder goal
An’ skate heem down so fas’
De rest of players seem dormir
As he was going pas’.

He was so queek he mak’ dem look
Jus lak’ a lot of clown.
An’ wen he shoot, de wind from her
Eet knock de hompire down.

Dat was de winning goal, hurrah;
De game she come to hend.
I yell, “Bravo for Joliat,
You hear he ees’ ma friend.”

De Henglishman he say, “Pardon,”
An’ he tak’ off hees hat.
“De Breetish Hempire steel ees safe
Wen men can shoot lak’ dat.”

An’ den he say, “Bravo,” as hard
As Henglishman can whoop.
“I tink to-night I’ll change from tea
To bally ole pea-soup.”

24 thoughts on “The Complete And Wonderful Aurele Joliat Poem.”

  1. I don’t know if I was reading a year ago or if I commented, but when I was in grade seven in Montreal, a substitute teacher we had for a few weeks read that to us a number of times. This is the stanza that I partly remembered from all those years ago — almost fifty:

    “Shut up, Pea Soup,” an Henglishman
    Sarcastic say to me;
    So I turn round to heem and yell,
    “Shut up, you Cup of Tea.”

  2. We should sing this poem at a hockey game like they do in EUrope for their Soccer team, but ofcourse we will ahve to change cuople of words here and there.

  3. I have looked for this poem for years now, even writing Red Fisher to no avail. I remember reading it in school growing up in Lachine, and wanted to pass it on to my own son. Thanks!!

  4. What a great poem. How could I have missed it for so many years. I grew up in Ottawa and met Joliat as a very young boy.
    In high school we studied a French Canadian doctor, William Henry Drummand 1857-1907 who wrote in the “broken english” used in
    the Joliat poem and being in Ottawa it is surprising thar Monsieur Joliat was not in our studies. Drummond’s book of poems was entitled Habitant Poems and I am looking aty a copy as I write. Absolutely delightful.

  5. I grew up in Baie d’Urfe, Quebec and my 5th grade teacher, Mrs. McNair, was an avid hockey fan. She read our class “Boys On Skates” (Scott Young) and recited Monsieur Joliat on several occasions (I recall that we even had a competition to see who could memorize and deliver it the best – I lost out to my good friend, Dick Menzies). Every year she would take the girls in her class to see the Ice Capades at the Montreal Forum and the boys to a Montreal Canadiens game. Her husband was a conductor for Canadian Pacific Rail and was able to find out which station the Habs would be leaving from to head to their next game. We went to Westmount station just before midnight (we were about the only ones there) and, sure enough, within minutes the entire Canadiens team came into the waiting room. It was Nirvana – seeing our hockey heroes, talking with them and getting their autographs – and a night that I will never forget.

  6. Hmm….By my calculation, it would have been January or February of 1965. Beliveau was the Captain and other players I recall meeting that night included Richard (“Pocket Rocket”), Backstrom, Rousseau, Laperriere, JC Tremblay, Cournoyer, Provost, Ferguson and ‘Gump’ Worsley. They don’t make ’em like that any more.

    The first game that my brother ever went to see at the Forum at the age of nine (March, 1955) featured the “Richard Riot” – tear gas, cars turned over and store windows smashed for many blocks down Ste. Catherine Street. The crowd reaction was in protest of Clarence Campbell’s suspension of Rocket Richard for several games at the end of the season that kept him out of the playoffs. Campbell actually attended the game and was pelted with tomatoes.

  7. Eric, what a night for your brother! I really love these stories, and I also thank you for reading my blog and sharing your memories. Thank you very much, and please come back.

  8. When I taught grade 7 at the beginning of my career the late 1960s I chanced upon this poem and read to my class. My students enjoyed the poem so much that I would tell them if they were extra good I would read it to them; I had occasion to read it to them many, many times.
    ‘Mr. C.’

  9. Thanks Mr. C. I’m glad you found the poem here and it makes me feel good that it stirred up cherished memories. None of my teachers read me the poem and they should have. Maybe I would have paid more attention.

  10. I too enjoyed reading the poem once again. I used to love hearing it.
    Wilson MacDonald wrote another in the same line, It is called the Stop him Short (sic) about a Habitant going to New York to see a baseball game.

  11. Thanks Daniel. I’m hoping to try and locate this Stop Him Short. I’m very curious and hope I can find it.

  12. It is difficult. I have a partial here. may have to go to my library here in Fredericton to borrow a poetry book

    De Stop ‘Em Short

    I go me once to baseball game,
    I laugh and den some more.
    It was in New ‘ark on de day
    She play wit’ Baltimore.

    Dose baseball players, dey were dumb,
    Don’t know no ting at all.
    Don’t know enough to start to play,
    Till the empire say, “Play Ball”

    Dat empires’ name he’s Mr. Fake.
    He’s little man and slim.
    I know ‘is name is fake because
    They all yell, “Fake,” at ’em.

    But when he yell, “Play ball,”
    They run from peg pen on the right.
    The pitcher come and swings ‘is arm,
    Just like he wanna fight.

    The catcher he’s all doubled up,
    I guess it is old age.
    By gar, they tink he is a bird,
    And put him in a cage.

    De stop he’m short is best
    of anybody dere.

    I don’t like pitcher, catcher much.
    The empire, he’s no sport.
    But I come back here every day,
    To see dat stop he’m short.

  13. Daniel, that’s a lovely poem. Thank you very much. I’m a big baseball fan and I enjoyed this very much.

  14. I wanted to share with you that the second line of your first verse of Monsieur Joliat should read…”Dose Senators ees nice”.

    I also have the full version of the “Stop-heem-short”.

  15. I have been looking for this poem ever since a classmate recited it in a poetry competition way back in about 1984!!!!! For real. This is AWESOME! So happy to finally find it!

  16. Good evening again!

    I was listening to some old tapes of Peter Gzowski’s Morningside and thought of this for some reason. I just found another version that refers to “dose Senators” instead of Maple Leafs” in the first stanza (which is interesting in that I am living in Ottawa where the Senators have been resurected).

    The comments from Mr C who used to read it reminded me that the teacher who read this poem was a Mr Vogel, who was the only male teacher at Somerled Elementary School in NDG in Montreal; I thought he should be noted and recognized for one of the influences he had on many students..

    regards, Phil Allan, Ottawa

  17. Mr. Vogel noted, Phil. And that’s interesting that the Sens would replace the Leafs in one version. Joliet lived in Ottawa too. I had a beer with him at the Prescott Hotel and drove him home.

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