The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1896-12-17
MATHJkEN.

province OF Quebec, where every par
ish has its professional Taconteur. and
where every man is an amateur But
you VIII hear it told with most fitting
sympathy and Imagination, at the
beating Of the flax. in the little valley
beside DalgrOthe mountain. That IS.
perhaps, because of the woman who
tells it. And when Antoinette Mar
motto, who has a voice like a bird,
sings a verse or two Of the song they
call "Mathurin. the Master Of the
School" )" to the beat Of the hammers
upon the fax, the women pause III
their work, and weep IN silly sort Of
way, without shame or TeprOof.
Here are two verses Of the song
with which Antoinette used TO play
upon their sentimental heart strings:
"Comnaissez-you- Mathurin,
Ise maitre 'ncOlc
Get amaIbIe bOute-Cu-traiu.
l)u pd-lr TafIule:
4 table -.aI reTas,
"a laugue ne tarit pas
Sur Ia gaudriole,
Oh. que,
Sur "a gaudrIule.
Ami lecteur; passe moi
Cette fuTIbOle:
lie gazette me sert de lo!,
CONNIE dc bOussOlc:
Puar CHASER le sOmbTC cunui,
Je verSIhe aUIOurd hul
Sur la saudrlole
Oh que
Sur la gaUdrOlr
The tale was told to me in the little
valley one September morning. Far
and near one could see the swinging
OF tie fail, and the laughter Of a ripe
summer was upon the land There
was little Cavalry down by the
riverside. where the flax beaters used
to say their prayers at the intervals
Of their work. and it was lust at the
foot Of this that Angele Rouvier,
having finished her prayer, put her
rosary IN her pocket, wiped her eyes
with the hem Of her petticoat, and
said to me:
All, that poor MathUTin~
[ could not guess at first why she
spoke SO at the moment; but presently
it dawned upon me that she had been
praying for the repose of Mathurins
soul; though he had been at least a
hundred years dead and she had new
er known him. But tradition and
memory are sweet to her race, and
perhaps something in her own life
that day had recalled to her the apo
cryphal scripture according to Ma
thurin. For some of these stories
and legends lie as near To the heart
Of the race Of Angelo as Job or Isaiah
lie to your lives and mine; perhaps
nearer, because Angelo and her race
are closer to the honest earth from
which good stories spring.
'Ah, that poor Mathurin. [ wipe
my eyes for himn she said to me
again.
Tell me all about him. won't you.
Nine. Angelo 1 want to hear You
tell about it." | added hastily, for I
saw that she would despise me if I
showed ignorance of Mathurin's story.
Her sympathy with Mathurin's mem
DRY was real, but her pleasure at the
compliment conveyed in my request
was also real.
All! 1t was YER long time ago
yes. My gran'mudder She remember
dat MathurIn Ver' we'll. He is not
yer' big man, not SO bigger as your
self. He has a face-oh. not YER
handsome, not 50 more handsome as
yours rs-non His clothes they hang
on hIm all loose. His hair. it Is all
some gray, and il blows about him
head. He Is clean Of face no beard.
no, nosing like dat. But his eye. oh,
m'sieu', his eye, 1t is like coal which
you blow III your hand, whew All
bright. My gran'mudder, she say,
VOLTA! You can light your pipe with
the eyes of that m'sIeur She know.
She saw that M'sieu' Mathurin's eyes.
they shine in tie dark. Ny gran
fadder he says he not need any lights
or his carrioIe when Mathurin ride
with him in the dark.
''Nrailnent. it is all YER true what
| tell you all the time. Ifyou cut off
Mathurin at the chin. all the way up,
you would say the top of him it is a
priest. All the way down from his
neck, if you let it stan, oh, he is Just
no better a. yourself or my Jean. non,
He is YER good man. Only one bad
ting he do That is why | pray for
him-only one bad ting. Saprie, If
| have only one thing to say God have
mercy for L tink dat ver' good. | do
my penance happy. Well, dat Ma
thuun him used to teach the school.
The cure he Is ver' fond Of him. All
the leetle children, boys and girls,
they all say, 'Cest bon Mathurin"
lie is not very cross. non, lie have no
wife-no child; Just live by himself,
all alone. But he Is YER good friends
with everybody in Pontiac. When he
60 along the street everybody say,
'Ah. there go the good Mathurinn
He laugh, ne tell story. he smoke a
leetla, he take a Icctle white wine be-
him the door that is nosing, non,
He have in the parish five, ten,
twenty children ali call Mathurin; be
Is godfaddcr with them-yes. SO he
60 about with plenty of sugar and
sticks Of candy in his pocket. He
never forget once the age of every
leetla child which call him godfadder
He have a brain that work like a
| clock. My gran'fadder he say dat
Mathurin have machine in his head.
1t make the words, make the thoughts
make the fine speech like the cure,
make the gran poetry-oh, yes,
When the king of England go to
sit on the throne Mathurin write ver'
nice verse to him. And bye and bye
their come to Mathurin a letter VOLTA,
dat IS a letter, Ii has one, two. three
twenty seals; and the king he say to
Mathurin, 'Merci, mile fois Msienr.'
You are very polite | tank you. l
will keep your verses to tell me dat
my French subjects are all loyal like
NJ Mathurin' Dat is YER nice. but
he is not proud-non. He write six
verses for my gran'mudder-bein.
Dat Is something. He write two
verses for the king of Englan' and he
write six verses for my gran'mudder,
you see. He go on so, dis week, dat