Fun with sterotypes!

Nama can recall whole sonnets of poetry. she can sing all verses to long forgotten songs. here is a taste of today's sampling. Apparently my Grampie Kenneth sung this to Nama during there engagement and sung it to put my father to sleep as a tike.

My Pretty Little Indian Napinee

When a white man fished one summer
Met an Indian girl, a hummer
Daughter of th big Chief, Spare-th-rod
White man threw some love an' glances
Took th maiden to our dances
Smoked th pipe of peace, took chances
Livin' in a teepee made of fur
He rode with her on an Indian pony
Bought 'er a diamond ring, a phoney
An' these loving words he'd say to her

CHORUS:
You're my pretty little Indian Napinee
Won't you take a chance an' marry me
Your Father's th Chief, an' it's my belief
To a very merry wedding, he'll agree
True you're dark little Indian maid
But I'll sunburn to a darker shade
I'll wear feathers in my head
Paint my face an Indian red
If you'll only be my Napinee