A quiet boy was Joe Bedotte,
An' no sign anyw'ere
Of anyt'ing at all he got
Is up to ordinaire—
An' w'en de teacher tell heem go
An' tak' a holiday,
For wake heem up, becos' he 's slow,
Poor Joe would only say,
"Wall! meb-be."

Don't bodder no wan on de school
Unless dey bodder heem,
But all de scholar t'ink he 's fool
Or walkin' on a dream—
So w'en dey 're closin' on de spring
Of course dey 're moche surprise
Dat Joe is takin' ev'ry-t'ing
Of w'at you call de prize.

An' den de teacher say, "Jo-seph,
I know you 're workin' hard—
Becos' w'en I am pass mese'f
I see you on de yard
A-splittin' wood—no doubt you stay
An' study half de night?"
An' Joe he spik de sam' ole way
So quiet an' polite,
"Wall! meb-be."

Hees fader an' hees moder die
An' lef' heem dere alone
Wit' chil'ren small enough to cry,
An' farm all rock an' stone—
But Joe is fader, moder too,
An' work bote day an' night
An' clear de place—dat 's w'at he do,
An' bring dem up all right.

De CurÉ say, "Jo-seph, you know
Le bon Dieu 's very good—
He feed de small bird on de snow,
De caribou on de wood—
But you deserve some credit too—
I spik of dis before."
So Joe he dunno w'at to do
An' only say wance more,
"Wall! meb-be."

An' Joe he leev' for many year
An' helpin' ev'ry wan
Upon de parish far an' near
Till all hees money 's gone—
An' den de CurÉ come again
Wit' tear-drop on hees eye—
He know for sure poor Joe, hees frien',
Is well prepare to die.

"Wall! Joe, de work you done will tell
W'en you get up above—
De good God he will treat you well
An' geev' you all hees love.
De poor an' sick down here below,
I 'm sure dey 'll not forget,"
An' w'at you t'ink he say, poor Joe,
Drawin' hees only breat'?
"Wall! meb-be."