38.  Over and over they tell me,
That this scoundrel has insulted me.

52.  Young chaps tramp around;
They are on the lookout for women.

54.  Girls:  Young man, I will not love you, for you run around
with no blanket on; I do not desire such a husband. 
Boys:  And I do not like a frog-shaped woman with swollen
eyes.[247]

Most of these poems, as I have said, were composed and sung by women.  The same is true of a collection of Chinook songs (Northern Oregon and adjacent country) made by Dr. Boas.[248] The majority of his poems, he says, “are songs of love and jealousy, such as are made by Indian women living in the cities, or by rejected lovers.”  These songs are rather pointless, and do not tell us much about the subject of our inquiry.  Here are a few samples: 

1.  Yaya,
When you take a wife,
Yaya,
Don’t become angry with me. 
I do not care.

     2.  Where is Charlie going now? 
        Where is Charlie going now? 
        He comes back to see me,
        I think.

     3.  Good-by, oh, my dear Charlie! 
        When you take a wife
        Don’t forget me.

     4.  I don’t know how I feel
        Toward Johnny. 
        That young man makes a foe of me.

     5.  My dear Annie,
        If you cast off Jimmy Star,
        Do not forget
        How much he likes
        You.

Of much greater interest are the “Songs of the Kwakiutl Indians,” of Vancouver Island, collected by Dr. Boas.[249] One of them is too obscene to quote.  The following lines evidence a pretty poetic fancy, suggesting New Zealand poetry: 

      1.  Y[=i]!  Yawa, wish I could——­and make my true love happy,
          haigia, hay[=i]a.

        Y[=i]!  Yawa, wish I could arise from under the ground right
          next to my true love, haigia hay[=i]a.

        Y[=i]!  Yawa, wish I could alight from the heights, from the
          heights of the air right next to my true love, haigia,
          hay[=i]a.

        Y[=i]!  Yawa, wish I could sit among the clouds and fly with
          them to my true love.

        Y[=i]!  Yawa, I am downcast on account of my true love.

        Y[=i]!  Yawa, I cry for pain on account of my true love, my
          dear.

Dr. Boas confesses that this song is somewhat freely translated.  The more’s the pity.  An expression like “my true love,” surely is utterly un-Indian.

     2.  An[=a]ma!  Indeed my strong-hearted, my dear. 
        An[=a]ma!  Indeed, my strong hearted, my dear. 
        An[=a]ma!  Indeed my truth toward my dear. 
        Not pretend I I know having master my dear. 
        Not pretend I I know for whom I am gathering property, my
          dear. 
        Not pretend I I know for whom I am gathering blankets, my
          dear.