The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1896-11-15

Sur la gaudriole.
Ami iccteur. passc moi e,
Cctte faribole;
lie gazette me sert dc .loi
CONNIE de boussole:
Pour chaser 10 sombre ennui,
Je versatile autourd'hui
Sur 10 gaudriole,
oh, que.
Sur La gsudriole.
The tale was told to me In the little valley
one September morning. Far and near one
could see the swinging Of the fail. and the
laughter Of q ripe.summer was upon the land.
There.was a little Calvary down by the river
side, where the fax heaters used to say their
prayers in the intervals of their work = ana it
was just Mt the foot of this that Angelo Rouvier,
having finished her prayer, put her rosary in her
pocket, wiped her eyes with the hem of her
petticoat. and said to me:
"Ah, that poor Mathurin! ~
l could not guess at first why she spoke so at
the moment; but presently II dawned upon mo
that she had been praying for the repose of
Mathurin's soul: though he had been at least
q hundred years dead, and she had never
known him. But tradition and memory are
sweet 10 her race. and perhaps something in her
own life that day had recalled to her the apoc-
ryphal Scripture &c ;ording to Mathurin. For
some of these etories and legends lie as near to
the heart OF. the race Of Angelo as Job or 1sai II
lies to your lives.and mine: perhaps nearer. be-
cause Angelo and her race ere closer TO the
honest earth, from which good stories spring.
"Ah, that poor Mathurin! l wipe my eyes
for him!' she said to me again.
Tell me all about him. won't you, Nine.
ANGLER want to hear you tell about it." |
added hastily, for / saw that she would de-
epise me IL l showed ignorance of Mathurin's
story. Her sympathy with Mathurin's men,
DRY was real. but her pleasure at the compile
ment conveyed in my request was also real.
"Ah! 1t was YER long time ago-yes. My
gran .mudder she remember dat Mathurin ver'
we'll. He is NOT ver' big man. not so bigger as
yourself. He has a face-oh. not YER hand
some. not SO more handsome as y~ours-non!
His clothes they hang on him all loose. his
hair, It is all some gray, and it blows about
him head. He is clean Of the face, no beard,
no. nosing like dat. But his eye, oh, M'sieu',
his eye! 1t IS Ikea coal which you blow in
your hand, whew! All bright. My gran
mudder size say VOLTA! You can light
your pipe with the eyes of that M'steu'!' She
knows. She say.that M'sieu' Mathurin's eyes
they shine in the dark. My Rran'fadder he
says he not need any lights on his carriole
when Mathurin ride with him in the da:k
"vraiment, It is all YER true what l tell you
Ill the time. II you 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, II you let it stan. oh, he is just no bet
ter as yourself. or ms Jean, mon! He is a ver'
good man. Only one bad ting he do. That is
why | pray for him that is WHY everybody pray
for him-only one bad ting. Saprie! II have
only one ting to say God-nave-mercy for, I tink
dat vcr' good, l do my penance happy. Well.
dat Mathurln him use to teach the school. The
cure he Is YER fond of him. All the leetla
Children, boys and girls, they all shy, 'C'est
bon Mathurin.' He is not vcr' cross. non! He
have no wife no child; Just I've by himself.
all alone; But he is yer, good friends with
everybody in Pontiac. When he go long the
MatharinH He laugh. he tell iH story w he aes Sm GoRe
a leetla, he take a leetla white wine benin the
door--that is nosinG. non. '
children all call Mathurin: he is codfadder
with themIyes. So he go about with plenty
never forget once the age of every leetla child
which call him godfadder. He have q brain
say dat Mathurin have a machine in hts head.
It make the words. make the thoughts. make
the fine speech like the cure, make the gran
~" "M ,hrcn. The King of Enrlan. 60 to sit on
thurln "a letter VOLTA, dat is a letter! 1t has
s ssS to ty M., 1srsS; ' :Ms,cI s n;fIs e and Mts,. King yn nc
are YER polite. ! thank YOU. will keep
s SHar III TeT ISyoI TO ,i iSIl NE M' d. Ms, my Eren1 h, subjects p ssls
verses for my %cran'mudder helm. Dat is
OF Fnglan' and he write six verses for my gran
mudder, you see! He 20 on SO, dis week, dat
well, BY and by there is trouble IN Pom
lac, IL Is YER gE eat trouble You see there Is
too f bad. IL is not % his fault. He is ave ver "I nice rs
ma T. is IL the dnma.dm men Wiz Wiz make the LAYS for
Of the King Of EngIrn'' like dat VIZ Well.
? p tEEn rn fNNFn N - mn IN lnutIa sol .t-n
men-you will find their names cut in a stone
on tho church; and then, three times as big,
the ting! You see, dat rebellion you English
call It.. we call the War OF the Patriot we'll,
Ti.o King in e of I Ensla sH" smash mas f HIM pa aniefe War
all to pieces. Then there are ten men of the
swenly c1ms back 10 ISn!iHs yer' sorry. They
wives cry, all their children they are afraid!
some people say, What fools you are; others say
var wei. by and by there, come to Pontiac
what for, you tink? To Try the patriots. They
viii stan, them against the wall and shoot
come the cure, ho is not in Pontiac. non.
not not that day; he is gone to another village:
up before the Church. All the Children and
all the wives they cry and cry. and they feel
i the English soldier he say he will
march them If to Quebec. and everybody
kn 9N, t al ob is TN the ee C1lS OF r. R Pnrsio !. grow YER,
wild;.it raisenD high and dance on its hind
feet and VOLTA! he topple him over back
warde. and the horse fal! on the Colonel and
smash'him: it'smash him 80 he go TO die. ye.'
we'll; the Colonel what does he dor They lay
him on the steps of the church. Then he say.
Nobody answer. The Colonel he say. L have
n hundred sins all on my mind; they a.e ON
my heart like u hig hill. Bring TO me the
priest, he Groan like that. Nobody speak az
first. then somebody say the priest is not
'fnd me a priest" For lie tink the priest viii
not come because he go to kill the patriots.
'BrInV me u priest he say again. and III the