SAD FATE OF YIM YONSON by BENJAMIN FRANKLIN KING

AY been har een deese country
Fem yar go laist week;
Ay been smart Norwehians --
Ay keets on pooty quvick.

Ven Ay kem har Ay see beg krode
Of fallers, en Ay tal
Ay vants mae go pooty bad
To da Stockholm hotal.

De bus mans say vere you kem fram?
Ay say by Kopenhagen.
Hae puss mae rate troo krode
An' get mae in his vagen.

Next day get yob in engine-hus;
Dae fomans he like mae.
Hae rase mae vadgses leeta vile;
Ay tank Ay stay vade hae.

Ay get mae quainted nice gal,
Her nam is Christina Yohnsen;
She been har bote hawixteen yar,
She kem hare bay Visconsen.

She say she verk Saidgeveck street
By da Norway hotel;
She got blue eye en some rade hair --
Ay laka hare pooty val.

Ay ask hare dake a street-car rade,
She say she tank she voke;
Ay voke by hare to Lincoln Park
En have a pooty good talk.

She call mae hare partickley frande
En den I tank she say,
"Who vill be my papie
Ven Yim is gone avay?"

Pooty quvick she see vooman frande
En den she say to mae:
"Mister Yohnsen, please excoose mae,
Ay vill meed yo' after tea."

En leeta vile Ay tank Ay go
To da Stockholm hotel.
Ay meese mae money, vatch en chain;
Ay feel mae not real vell.
Ay drink mae alcoholen,
Bote fifteen glass, en svair;
Ay fight mae two policemans
Ay tank Ay soon gets squair.

Dae call patrolen vagen
En Ay rade to da yail;
Ay stay mae dare 'bout fem day,
Den Ay kem out on bail.

Ay tell da yustice man abote
De rade-head gal Ay seen;
Da krode of fallers laugh en say
Dat ya is pooty green.

Chicago konty vare bad place,
Ay loose mae vadgses all;
Ay take mae trunk to depot train
En go mae by Santa Pol.

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