我唱过维奥莱特·德·维尔，那个苗条的貂皮女人，唱过钻石牙的格蒂，还有钮扣的内尔，还有梅·拉莫尔，——八十四岁的我应该羞得脸红，因为在我放荡不羁的青春岁月里，我对她们是熟识的。克朗代克·基特，Gumboot苏，还有很多我都忘了;我记得他们和你我一样，都有缺点;但来把他们全部带走，这群雏菊中的雏菊，舞厅女郎的魅力女王是蒙特利尔·玛丽。然而她的心比谷仓还大，男孩们会说;她总是第一个帮助弱者，所以她用悲伤的话语告诉我，口红露在家里碍手碍脚:“孩子的主人看到了谁，只有上帝知道。”然后，在一个漆黑而痛苦的夜晚，可怜的卢口红唇降临了;在她床边，聪明的接生婆，泪如雨下，抱着刚出生的孩子——天哪!有两个:“海拉斯!我现在是zere mossaire，”蒙特利尔·马里说道。 Said One-eyed Mike: "In Lucky Strike we've never yet had twins," As darin' inundation he held one upon each knee. "Say, boys, ain't they a purty sight, as like's a pair o' pins-- We gotta hold a christinin' wi' Father Tim McGee." "I aim to be their Godpa," bellowed Black Moran from Nome. "The guy wot don't love childer is a blasted S.O.B.: So long as I can tot a gun them kids won't lack a home." "I sink zey creep into my heart," said Montreal Maree. 'Twas hectic in the Nugget Bar, the hooch was flowin' free, An' Lousetown Liz was singin' of how someone done her wrong, Wi' sixty seeded sourdoughs all ahollerin' their glee, When One-eyed Mike uprose an' called suspension of the song. Says he: "Aloodin' to them twins, their age in months is two, An' I propose wi' Christmas close, we offer them a tree. 'Twill sure be mighty pleasin' to the ghost o' Lipstick Lou . . ." "Zen you will be ze Père Noël," said Montreal Maree. The dance hall of the Nugget Bar erupted joy an' light, An' set upon the stage them twins was elegant to see, Like angel cherubs in their robes of pure baptismal white, Abaskin' in the sunny smile o' Father tim McGee. Then on the bar stood Santa Claus, says he: "We'll form a Trust; So all you sourdoughs heft your pokes an' hang 'em on the Tree. To give them kids a chance in life we'll raise enough or bust!" "For zem I pray ze Lord to bless," said Montreal Maree. You never saw a Christmas Tree so swell as that, I vow, Wi' sixty sweaty sourdoughs ringin' round them infants two; Their solid pokes o' virgin gold aweighin' down each bough, All singin' Christ Is Risen, for the soul o' Lipstick Lou, "Lo! Death is a deliverer, the purger of our sins, And Motherhood leads up to God," said Father Tim McGee. Then all the Ladies of the Line bent down to kiss them twins, Clasped to the breast, Madonna-like, of Montreal Maree. Sure 'tis the love of childer makes for savin' of the soul, And in Maternity the hope of humankind we see; So though she wears no halo, headin' out for Heaven's goal, Awheelin' of a double pram,--bless Montreal Maree!