Chapter 2

"I tole you somet'ing else also--mon cher Napoleon I get de grande majorite, for go on parliament Den buil' fine house on borde l'eau--near w'ere de church is stand More finer dan de Presbytere, w'en I am come riche man!"

I say "For w'at you spik lak dat? you must be gone crazee Dere's plaintee feller on de State, more smarter dan you be, Beside she's not so healtee place, an' if you mak' l'argent, You spen' it jus' lak Yankee man, an' not lak habitant.

"For me Bateese! I tole you dis: I'm very satisfy-- De bes' man don't leev too long tam, some day Ba Gosh! he die-- An' s'pose you got good trotter horse, an' nice famme Canadienne Wit' plaintee on de house for eat--W'at more you want ma frien'?"

But Bateese have it all mak' up, I can't stop him at all He's buy de seconde classe tiquette, for go on Central Fall-- An' wit' two-t'ree some more de boy,--w'at t'ink de sam' he do Pass on de train de very nex' wick, was lef' Riviere du Loup.

* * * * *

Wall! mebbe fifteen year or more, since Bateese go away I fin' mesef Riviere du Loup, wan cole, cole winter day De quick express she come hooraw! but stop de soon she can An' beeg swell feller jomp off car, dat's boss by nigger man.

He's dressim on de premiere classe, an' got new suit of clothes Wit' long moustache dat's stickim out, de 'noder side hees nose Fine gol' watch chain--nice portmanteau--an' long, long overcoat Wit' beaver hat--dat's Yankee style--an' red tie on hees t'roat--

I say "Hello Bateese! Hello! Comment ca va mon vieux?" He say "Excuse to me, ma frien' I t'ink I don't know you." I say, "She's very curis t'ing, you are Bateese Trudeau, Was raise on jus' sam' place wit' me, dat's fifteen year ago?"

He say, "Oh yass dat's sure enough--I know you now firs' rate, But I forget mos' all ma French since I go on de State. Dere's 'noder t'ing kip on your head, ma frien' dey mus' be tole Ma name's Bateese Trudeau no more, but John B. Waterhole!"

"Hole on de water's" fonny name for man w'at's call Trudeau Ma frien's dey all was spik lak dat, an' I am tole heem so-- He say "Trudeau an' Waterhole she's jus' about de sam' An' if you go for leev on State, you must have Yankee nam'."

Den we invite heem come wit' us, "Hotel du Canadaw" W'ere he was treat mos' ev'ry tam, but can't tak' w'isky blanc, He say dat's leetle strong for man jus' come off Central Fall An' "tabac Canayen" bedamme! he won't smoke dat at all!--

But fancy drink lak "Collings John" de way he put it down Was long tam since I don't see dat--I t'ink he's goin' drown!-- An' fine cigar cos' five cent each, an' mak' on Trois-Rivieres L'enfant! he smoke beeg pile of dem--for monee he don't care!--

I s'pose meseff it's t'ree o'clock w'en we are t'roo dat night Bateese, hees fader come for heem, an' tak' heem home all right De ole man say Bateese spik French, w'en he is place on bed-- An' say bad word--but w'en he wake--forget it on hees head--

Wall! all de winter w'en we have soiree dat's grande affaire Bateese Trudeau, dit Waterhole, he be de boss man dere-- You bet he have beeg tam, but w'en de spring is come encore He's buy de premiere classe tiquette for go on State some more.

* * * * *

You 'member w'en de hard tam come on Les Etats Unis An' plaintee Canayens go back for stay deir own contree? Wall! jus' about 'dat tam again I go Riviere du Loup For sole me two t'ree load of hay--mak' leetle visit too--

De freight train she is jus' arrive--only ten hour delay-- She's never carry passengaire--dat's w'at dey always say-- I see poor man on char caboose--he's got heem small valise Begosh! I nearly tak' de fit,--It is--it is Bateese!

He know me very well dis tam, an' say "Bon jour, mon vieux I hope you know Bateese Trudeau was educate wit' you I'm jus' come off de State to see ma familee encore I bus' mesef on Central Fall--I don't go dere no more."

"I got no monee--not at all--I'm broke it up for sure-- Dat's locky t'ing, Napoleon, de brakeman Joe Latour He's cousin of wan frien' of me call Camille Valiquette, Conductor too's good Canayen--don't ax me no tiquette."

I tak' Bateese wit' me once more "Hotel du Canadaw" An' he was glad for get de chance drink some good w'isky blanc! Dat's warm heem up, an den he eat mos' ev'ryt'ing he see, I watch de w'ole beez-nesse mese'f--Monjee! he was hongree!

Madame Charette wat's kip de place get very much excite For see de many pork an' bean Bateese put out of sight Du pain dore--potate pie--an' 'noder t'ing be dere But w'en Bateese is get heem t'roo--dey go I don't know w'ere.

It don't tak' long for tole de news "Bateese come off de State" An' purty soon we have beeg crowd, lak village she's en fete Bonhomme Maxime Trudeau hese'f, he's comin' wit' de pries' An' pass' heem on de "Room for eat" w'ere he is see Bateese.

Den ev'rybody feel it glad, for watch de embrasser An' bimeby de ole man spik "Bateese you here for stay?" Bateese he's cry lak beeg bebe, "Ba j'eux rester ici. An if I never see de State, I'm sure I don't care--me."

"Correc'," Maxime is say right off, "I place you on de farm For help your poor ole fader, won't do you too moche harm Please come wit' me on Magasin, I feex you up--ba oui An' den you're ready for go home an' see de familee."

Wall! w'en de ole man an' Bateese come off de Magasin Bateese is los' hees Yankee clothes--he's dress lak Canayen Wit' bottes sauvages--ceinture fleche--an' coat wit' capuchon An' spik Francais au naturel, de sam' as habitant.

* * * * *

I see Bateese de oder day, he's work hees fader's place I t'ink mese'f he's satisfy--I see dat on hees face He say "I got no use for State, mon cher Napoleon Kebeck she's good enough for me--Hooraw pour Canadaw."

DE NICE LEETLE CANADIENNE.

You can pass on de worl' w'erever you lak, Tak' de steamboat for go Angleterre, Tak' car on de State, an' den you come back, An' go all de place, I don't care-- Ma frien' dat's a fack, I know you will say, W'en you come on dis contree again, Dere's no girl can touch, w'at we see ev'ry day, De nice leetle Canadienne.

Don't matter how poor dat girl she may be, Her dress is so neat an' so clean, Mos' ev'rywan t'ink it was mak' on Paree An' she wear it, wall! jus' lak de Queen. Den come for fin' out she is mak' it herse'f, For she ain't got moche monee for spen', But all de sam' tam, she was never get lef', Dat nice leetle Canadienne.

W'en "un vrai Canayen" is mak' it mariee, You t'ink he go leev on beeg flat An' bodder hese'f all de tam, night an' day, Wit' housemaid, an' cook, an' all dat? Not moche, ma dear frien', he tak' de maison, Cos' only nine dollar or ten, W'ere he leev lak blood rooster, an' save de l'argent, Wit' hees nice leetle Canadienne.

I marry ma famme w'en I'm jus' twenty year, An' now we got fine familee, Dat skip roun' de place lak leetle small deer, No smarter crowd you never see-- An' I t'ink as I watch dem all chasin' about, Four boy an' six girl, she mak' ten, Dat's help mebbe kip it, de stock from run out, Of de nice leetle Canadienne.

O she's quick an' she's smart, an' got plaintee heart, If you know correc' way go about, An' if you don't know, she soon tole you so Den tak' de firs' chance an' get out; But if she love you, I spik it for true, She will mak' it more beautiful den, An' sun on de sky can't shine lak de eye Of dat nice leetle Canadienne.

'POLEON DORE.

A TALE OF THE SAINT MAURICE.

You have never hear de story of de young Napoleon Dore? Los' hees life upon de reever w'en de lumber drive go down? W'ere de rapide roar lak tonder, dat's de place he's goin' onder, W'en he's try save Paul Desjardins, 'Poleon hese'f is drown.

All de winter on de Shaintee, tam she's good, and work she's plaintee, But we're not feel very sorry, w'en de sun is warm hees face, W'en de mooshrat an' de beaver, tak' some leetle swim on reever, An' de sout' win' scare de snowbird, so she fly some col'er place.

Den de spring is set in steady, an' we get de log all ready, Workin' hard all day an' night too, on de water mos' de tam, An' de skeeter w'en dey fin' us, come so quickly nearly blin' us, Biz--biz--biz--biz--all aroun' us till we feel lak sacredam.

All de sam' we're hooraw feller, from de top of house to cellar, Ev'ry boy he's feel so happy, w'en he's goin' right away, See hees fader an' hees moder, see hees sister an' hees broder, An' de girl he spark las' summer, if she's not get mariee.

Wall we start heem out wan morning, an' de pilot geev us warning, "W'en you come on Rapide Cuisse, ma frien', keep raf' she's head on shore, If you struck beeg rock on middle, w'ere le diable is play hees fiddle, Dat's de tam you pass on some place, you don't never pass before."

But we'll not t'ink moche of danger, for de rapide she's no stranger Many tam we're runnin' t'roo it, on de fall an' on de spring, On mos' ev'ry kin' of wedder dat le Bon Dieu scrape togedder, An' we'll never drown noboddy, an' we'll never bus' somet'ing.

Dere was Telesphore Montbriand, Paul Desjardins, Louis Guyon, Bill McKeever, Aleck Gauthier, an' hees cousin Jean Bateese, 'Poleon Dore, Aime Beaulieu, wit' some more man I can't tole you, Dat was mak' it bes' gang never run upon de St. Maurice.

Dis is jus' de tam I wish me, I could spik de good English--me-- For tole you of de pleasurement we get upon de spring, W'en de win' she's all a sleepin', an' de raf' she go a sweepin' Down de reever on some morning, w'ile le rossignol is sing.

Ev'ryt'ing so nice an' quiet on de shore as we pass by it, All de tree got fine new spring suit, ev'ry wan she's dress on green W'y it mak' us all more younger, an' we don't feel any hunger, Till de cook say "'Raw for breakfas'," den we smell de pork an' bean.

Some folk say she's bad for leever, but for man work hard on reever, Dat's de bes' t'ing I can tole you, dat was never yet be seen, Course dere's oder t'ing ah tak' me, fancy dish also I lak me, But w'en I want somet'ing solid, please pass me de pork an' bean.

All dis tam de raf' she's goin' lak steamboat was got us towin' All we do is keep de channel, an' dat's easy workin' dere, So we sing some song an' chorus, for de good tam dat's before us, W'en de w'ole beez-nesse she's finish, an' we come on Trois Rivieres.

But bad luck is sometam fetch us, for beeg strong win' come an' ketch us, Jus' so soon we struck de rapide--jus' so soon we see de smoke, An' before we spik some prayer for ourse'f dat's fightin' dere, Roun' we come upon de beeg rock, an' it's den de raf' she broke.

Dat was tam poor Paul Desjardins, from de parish of St. Germain, He was long way on de fronte side, so he's fallin' overboar' Couldn't swim at all de man say, but dat's more ma frien', I can say, Any how he's look lak drownin', so we'll t'row him two t'ree oar.

Dat's 'bout all de help our man do, dat's 'bout ev'ryt'ing we can do, As de crib we're hangin' onto balance on de rock itse'f, Till de young Napoleon Dore, heem I start for tole de story, Holler out, "Mon Dieu, I don't lak see poor Paul go drown hese'f."

So he's mak' beeg jomp on water, jus' de sam you see some otter An' he's pass on place w'ere Paul is tryin' hard for keep afloat, Den we see Napoleon ketch heem, try hees possibill for fetch heem But de current she's more stronger, an' de eddy get dem bote.

O Mon Dieu! for see dem two man, mak' me feel it cry lak woman, Roun' an' roun' upon de eddy, quickly dem poor feller go, Can't tole wan man from de oder, an' we'll know dem bote lak broder, But de fight she soon is finish--Paul an' 'Poleon go below.

Yass, an' all de tam we stay dere, only t'ing we do is pray dere, For de soul poor drownin' feller, dat's enough mak' us feel mad, Torteen voyageurs, all brave man, glad get any chances save man, But we don't see no good chances, can't do not'ing, dat's too bad.

Wall! at las' de crib she's come way off de rock, an' den on some way, By an' by de w'ole gang's passin' on safe place below de Cuisse, Ev'ryboddy's heart she's breakin', w'en dey see poor Paul he's taken Wit' de young Napoleon Dore, bes' boy on de St. Maurice!

An' day affer, Bill McKeever fin' de bote man on de reever, Wit' deir arm aroun' each oder, mebbe pass above dat way-- So we bury dem as we fin' dem, w'ere de pine tree wave behin' dem An de Grande Montagne he's lookin' down on Marcheterre Bay.

You can't hear no church bell ring dere, but le rossignol is sing dere, An' w'ere ole red cross she's stannin', mebbe some good ange gardien, Watch de place w'ere bote man sleepin', keep de reever grass from creepin' On de grave of 'Poleon Dore, an' of poor Paul Desjardins.

DE NOTAIRE PUBLIQUE.

M'sieu Paul Joulin, de Notaire Publique Is come I s'pose seexty year hees life An' de mos' riche man on Sainte Angelique W'en he feel very sorry he got no wife-- So he's paint heem hees buggy, lak new, by Gor! Put flower on hees coat, mak' hese'f more gay Arrange on hees head fine chapeau castor An' drive on de house of de Boulanger.

For de Boulanger's got heem une jolie fille Mos' bes' lookin' girl on paroisse dey say An' all de young feller is lak Julie An' plaintee is ax her for mak' mariee, But Julie she's love only jus' wan man, Hees nam' it is Jeremie Dandurand An' he's work for her sak' all de hard he can 'Way off on de wood, up de Mattawa.

M'Sieu Paul he spik him "Bonjour Mamzelle, You lak promenade on de church wit' me? Jus' wan leetle word an' we go ma belle An' see heem de Cure toute suite, cherie; I dress you de very bes' style a la mode, If you promise for be Madame Paul Joulin, For I got me fine house on Bord a Plouffe road Wit' mor'gage also on de Grande Moulin."

But Julie she say "Non, non, M'Sieu Paul, Dat's not correc' t'ing for poor Jeremie For I love dat young feller lak not'ing at all, An' I'm very surprise you was not know me. Jeremie w'en he's geev me dat nice gol' ring, Las' tam he's gone off on de Mattawa Say he's got 'noder wan w'en he's come nex' spring Was mak' me for sure Madame Dandurand.

"I t'ank you de sam' M'Sieu Paul Joulin I s'pose I mus' be de wife wan poor man Wit' no chance at all for de Grande Moulin, But leev all de tam on some small cabane." De Notaire Publique den is tak' hees hat, For he t'ink sure enough dat hees dog she's dead; Dere's no use mak' love on de girl lak dat, Wit' not'ing but young feller on de head.

Julie she's feel lonesome mos' all dat week, Don't know w'at may happen she wait till spring Den t'ink de fine house of Notaire Publique An' plaintee more too--but love's funny t'ing! So nex' tam she see de Notaire again, She laugh on her eye an' say "M'Sieu Paul Please pass on de house, or you ketch de rain, Dat's very long tam you don't come at all."

She's geev him so soon he's come on de door Du vin de pays, an' some nice galettes, She's mak' dem herse'f only day before An' he say "Bigosh! dat is fine girl yet." So he's try hees chances some more--hooraw! Julie is not mak' so moche troub' dis tam; She's forget de poor Jeremie Dandurand An' tole de Notaire she will be hees famme.

W'en Jeremie come off de wood nex' spring, An' fin' dat hees girl she was get mariee Everybody's expec' he will do somet'ing, But he don't do not'ing at all, dey say; For he's got 'noder girl on Sainte Dorothee, Dat he's love long tam, an' she don't say "No," So he's forget too all about Julie An' mak' de mariee wit' hese'f also.

A CANADIAN VOYAGEUR'S ACCOUNT OF THE NILE EXPEDITION.

"MAXIME LABELLE."

Victoriaw: she have beeg war, E-gyp's de nam' de place-- An' neeger peep dat's leev 'im dere, got very black de face, An' so she's write Joseph Mercier, he's stop on Trois Rivieres-- "Please come right off, an' bring wit' you t'ree honder voyageurs.

"I got de plaintee sojer, me, beeg feller six foot tall-- Dat's Englishman, an' Scotch also, don't wear no pant at all; Of course, de Irishman's de bes', raise all de row he can, But noboddy can pull batteau lak good Canadian man.

"I geev you steady job for sure, an' w'en you get 'im t'roo I bring you back on Canadaw, don't cos' de man un sou, Dat's firs'-class steamboat all de way Kebeck an' Leeverpool, An' if you don't be satisfy, you mus' be beeg, beeg fool."

We meet upon Hotel Dufresne, an' talk heem till daylight, An' Joe he's treat so many tam, we very near get tight, Den affer w'ile, we mak' our min' dat's not bad chance, an' so Joseph Mercier he's telegraph, "Correc', Madame, we go."

So Joe arrange de whole beez-nesse wit' Queen Victoriaw; Two dollar day--work all de tam--dat's purty good l'argent! An' w'en we start on Trois Rivieres, for pass on boar' de ship, Our frien' dey all say, "Bon voyage," an' den Hooraw! E-gyp'!

Dat beeg steamboat was plonge so moche, I'm 'fraid she never stop-- De Capitaine's no use at all, can't kip her on de top-- An' so we all come very sick, jus' lak one leetle pup, An' ev'ry tam de ship's go down, de inside she's go up.

I'm sorry spoke lak dis, ma frien', if you don't t'ink it's so, Please ax Joseph Mercier hese'f, or Aleck De Courteau, Dat stay on bed mos' all de tam, so sick dey nearly die, But lak' some great, beeg Yankee man, was never tole de lie.

De gang she's travel, travel, t'roo many strange contree, An' ev'ry place is got new nam', I don't remember, me, We see some fonny t'ing, for sure, more fonny I can tell, But w'en we reach de Neel Riviere, dat's feel more naturel.

So many fine, beeg sojer man, I never see before, All dress heem on grand uniform, is wait upon de shore, Some black, some green, an' red also, cos' honder dollar sure, An' holler out, "She's all right now, here come de voyageurs!"

We see boss Generale also, he's ride on beeg chameau, Dat's w'at you call Ca-melle, I t'ink, I laugh de way she go! Jomp up, jomp down, jomp ev'ry place, but still de Generale Seem satisfy for stay on top, dat fonny an-i-mal.

He's holler out on Joe Mercier, "Comment ca va Joseph You lak for come right off wit' me, tak' leetle ride yourseff?" Joseph, he mak' de grand salut, an' tak' it off hees hat, "Merci, Mon Generale," he say, "I got no use for dat."

Den affer we was drink somet'ing, an' sing "Le Brigadier," De sojer fellers get prepare, for mak' de embarquer, An' everybody's shout heem out, w'en we tak' hole de boat "Hooraw pour Queen Victoriaw!" an' also "pour nous autres."

Bigosh; I do hard work mese'f upon de Ottawa, De Gatineau an' St. Maurice, also de Mattawa, But I don't never work at all, I'sure you dat's a fack Until we strike de Neel Riviere, an' sapre Catarack!

"Dis way, dat way, can't keep her straight," "look out, Bateese, look out!" "Now let her go"--"arrete un peu," dat's way de pilot shout, "Don't wash de neeger girl on shore," an' "prenez garde behin'," "W'at's matter wit' dat rudder man? I t'ink he's goin' blin'!"

Some tam of course, de boat's all right, an' carry us along An' den again, we mak portage, w'en current she's too strong On place lak' dat, we run good chance, for sun-struck on de neck, An' plaintee tam we wish ourseff was back on ole Kebeck.

De seconde Catarack we pass, more beeger dan de Soo, She's nearly t'orty mile for sure, it would astonish you, Dat's place t'ree Irishman get drown, wan day we have beeg storm, I s'pose de Queen is feel lak cry, los' dat nice uniform!

De night she's very, very cole, an' hot upon de day, An' all de tam, you feel jus' lak you're goin' melt away, But never min' an' don't get scare, you mak' it up all right, An' twenty poun' you los' dat day, she's comin' back sam' night.

We got small bugle boy also, he's mebbe stan' four foot, An' firs' t'ing ev'ry morning, sure, he mak' it toot! toot! toot! She's nice enough upon de day, for hear de bugle call, But w'en she play before daylight, I don't lak dat at all.

We mus' get up immediatement, dat leetle feller blow, An' so we start heem off again, for pull de beeg batteau, De sojer man he's nice, nice boy, an' help us all he can, An' geev heem chance, he's mos' as good lak some Canadian man.

Wall all de tam, she go lak dat, was busy every day, Don't get moche chance for foolish-ness, don't get no chance for play, Dere's plaintee danger all aroun', an' w'en we're comin' back We got look out for run heem safe, dem sapre Catarack.

But w'ere's de war? I can't mak' out, don't see no fight at all! She's not'ing but une Grande Piqnique, dat's las' in all de fall! Mebbe de neeger King he's scare, an' skip anoder place, An' pour la Reine Victoriaw! I never see de face.

But dat's not ma beez-nesse, ma frien', I'm ready pull batteau So long she pay two dollar day, wit' pork an' bean also; An' if she geev me steady job, for mak' some more l'argent, I say, "Hooraw! for all de tam, on Queen Victoriaw!"

MEMORIES.

O spirit of the mountain that speaks to us to-night, Your voice is sad, yet still recalls past visions of delight, When 'mid the grand old Laurentides, old when the earth was new, With flying feet we followed the moose and caribou.

And backward rush sweet memories, like fragments of a dream, We hear the dip of paddle blades, the ripple of the stream, The mad, mad rush of frightened wings from brake and covert start, The breathing of the woodland, the throb of nature's heart.

Once more beneath our eager feet the forest carpet springs, We march through gloomy valleys, where the vesper sparrow sings. The little minstrel heeds us not, nor stays his plaintive song, As with our brave coureurs de bois we swiftly pass along.

Again o'er dark Wayagamack, in bark canoe we glide, And watch the shades of evening glance along the mountain side. Anon we hear resounding the wizard loon's wild cry, And mark the distant peak whereon the ling'ring echoes die.

But Spirit of the Northland! let the winter breezes blow, And cover every giant crag with rifts of driving snow. Freeze every leaping torrent, bind all the crystal lakes, Tell us of fiercer pleasures when the Storm King awakes.

And now the vision changes, the winds are loud and shrill, The falling flakes are shrouding the mountain and the hill, But safe within our snug cabane with comrades gathered near, We set the rafters ringing with "Roulant" and "Brigadier."

Then after Pierre and Telesphore have danced "Le Caribou," Some hardy trapper tells a tale of the dreaded Loup Garou, Or phantom bark in moonlit heavens, with prow turned to the East, Bringing the Western voyageurs to join the Christmas feast.

And while each backwoods troubadour is greeted with huzza Slowly the homely incense of "tabac Canayen" Rises and sheds its perfume like flowers of Araby, O'er all the true-born loyal Enfants de la Patrie.

And thus with song and story, with laugh and jest and shout, We heed not dropping mercury nor storms that rage without, But pile the huge logs higher till the chimney roars with glee, And banish spectral visions with La Chanson Normandie.

"Brigadier! repondit Pandore Brigadier! vous avez raison, Brigadier! repondit Pandore, Brigadier! vous avez raison!"

O spirit of the mountain! that speaks to us to-night, Return again and bring us new dreams of past delight, And while our heart-throbs linger, and till our pulses cease, We'll worship thee among the hills where flows the Saint-Maurice.

PHIL-O-RUM JUNEAU.

A STORY OF THE "CHASSE GALLERIE."

In the days of the "Old Regime" in Canada, the free life of the woods and prairies proved too tempting for the young men, who frequently deserted civilization for the savage delights of the wilderness. These voyageurs and coureurs de bois seldom returned in the flesh, but on every New Year's Eve, back thro' snowstorm and hurricane--in mid-air--came their spirits in ghostly canoes, to join, for a brief spell, the old folks at home and kiss the girls, on the annual feast of the "Jour de l'an," or New Year's Day. The legend which still survives in French-speaking Canada, is known as "La Chasse Gallerie."