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I'll sing you a little ditty, it's something like a jig,
Concerning Jimmy Bruisse and his hard-headed pig;
The pig that made him savage, the pig that made him sin,
The pig that caused the trouble among Jimmy Bruisse's friends.
'Twas in the spring he bought the pig, as you may understand,
And for a place to build a sty he does it on his land;
He built it nice and comfortable, and it was plenty big,
And therefore there was lots of room for Jimmy Bruisse's pig.
He had this pig about a month, and everything went well,
He thought he was the richest man that lived in Carter's Well;
Until one sad and fateful night, when Jim was fast asleep,
The little piggie did get out and got down in the deep.
When Bruisse woke next morning, straight to the sty did go,
When he got there the pig was gone, but where he did not know;
He searched all 'round the neighbourhood but no trace could he find,
He said his pig was in the sty that night at half past nine.
The news was soon 'round that Bruisse's pig was gone,
Some thought he was drowned into some brook or pond;
While Jim had gone for the rangers, he made himself so big,
He told Ranger Walters that someone stole his pig.
He searched from the eastern channel right up to the Army hill,
And to everybody that he'd meet the story he would tell;
He seemed to be downhearted, his eyes they were so big,
He was looking for the devil that come and stole his pig.
He searched all down the Army hill until his heart got sore,
He made a raid on Bill Hann's house and almost broke the door;
He walked right in the dining room, he made himself so big,
He thought he had the devil that came and stole his pig.
All in a fool and confusion while Jim was gone to look,
John Tom White took his old boat and rowed up in the brook;
He was rowing along so comfortable and whistling of a jig,
And the first thing he bumped into was Jimmy Bruisse's pig.
"Oh well well," cried John Tom White, "And what have I got now,
Is it an elephant, a bulldog, or a cow?
Whatever it may be, me boys, it's not so very big."
And when they come to figure it out, it was Jimmy Bruisse's pig.
There's one more thing I'd like to say before I'm to a close,
I only sings this to my friends and friends I really knows;
'Cause if poor Bruisse finds it out, 'twill be just too bad you see,
He'll go and get the rangers and send them after me.
And now my song is to an end, it's the best that I can do,
I never told you a single lie, but every word is true;
My song may not be popular, and the words may not be big,
It was all about Jimmy Bruisse and his hard-headed pig.
Sung by Ernest Poole [b.1881] of Cape Ray, NL, and published in MacEdward Leach And The Songs Of Atlantic Canada © 2004 Memorial University of Newfoundland Folklore and Language Archive (MUNFLA).
