Canadian folk-life and folk-lore

CANADIAN

FOLK- LIFE

AND

FOLK-LORE

BY

WILLIAM PARKER GREENOUGH
"G.DE MONTAVBAN"

WITH
ILLUSTRATIONS

WUTER C. GREENOUGH

JVEW YO/W
GEORGE H-RICHMOND

1897

a
}

APR 10 1951

Copyrighted, 1897, by
WILLIAM PARKER GREENOUGH

TO
SIR H. G. JOLY DE LOTBINIERE,

ONE OF THE TRUEST OF CANADIANS,

I DEDICATE THIS BOOK.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PAGE

INTRODUCTION ix

PART

I. MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA 3

II. ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH 17

III. OCCUPATIONS . ... 33

IV. AMUSEMENTS — CONTES AND RACONTEURS 45

V. THE CHURCH 67

VI. MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES 85

VII. THE FEUDAL SYSTEM 101

VIII. CHANGES IN TYPE 115

IX. CHANSONS CANADIENNES 129

X. LANGUAGE— EDUCATION 149

XI. CONVEYANCES 161

XII. SOME NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS 169

XIII. A WINTER EXCURSION . .179

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

FLAX-BREAKER Frontispiece

PRESCOTT GATE (inside) Facing page x

PRE SCOTT GATE (outside] " xii

HOPE GATE " 4

PALACE HILL " 6

ST. LOUIS GATE « 8

THE REAPER " 10

PLOUGHING " 13

FLAX-BREAKING " 14

BEAVERS' HUT . . " 22

NAZAIRE " 46

LOG-DRIVING " 50

STORY-TELLING " 58

CALVAIRE . " 70

IN THE PROCESSION Facing page 74

BEFORE AN ALTAR " 76

CANADIAN FARM-HOUSE " 109

VERCHERES " 112

WINTER (Emblematical) " 176

CROSSING THE LAKE " 187

WINTER SUNRISE . " 190

INTRODUCTION

THE HOUSE OP THE HABITANT.

T'TJ A rp/-1TTTTITv TJ A TDXTQ TDTTTDAT

INTRODUCTION

WITHIN the last few years travellers, and especially
American travellers, have felt that their tours on this con-
tinent were incomplete unless they included a visit to the
venerable, historic, and picturesque city of Quebec. In
antiquity it has few equals in the New World, in pic-
turesqueness and beauty of situation it is unequalled, and
in historic interest it has no rival.

Quebec indeed well repays the visitor, whether he
be the vacation tourist or the leisurely student of times
and manners. For the one a day or a week may be well
spent in simple sight-seeing, and for the other a month or a
year may be made to yield new pleasures every day.

Most of the visitors to Quebec, however, come in sum-
mer, and the winter aspects and charms of the city were
until recently but little known and little appreciated.

The winter carnivals of 1 894 and 1 896 brought to the
city a goodly number of strangers, not one of whom left
it without carrying away delightful recollections of strik-
ing scenes and unexpected pleasures. The carnivals were
general festivals in which every one had a share. The
lookers-on were as interesting as the snowshoers or the
ice fortress. Universal hilarity prevailed, such as one
would expect to find only in climates considered more
favorable to out-of-door diversions.

3£ INTRODUCTION.

English and American visitors, accustomed to take
their pleasures soberly, could hardly understand how a
whole city could be so completely en fete as was Quebec
at these times. They, however, quickly fell into the
spirit of the occasion, and each gladly contributed his
share to the pleasures of the rest. Many then realized
how an old habitue of Quebec would love it as well in
winter as in summer.

But in neither summer nor winter would the visitor
see much of the country people, the habitants. He might
see a few on the markets or elsewhere and be interested
in some of their peculiarities, but of their home life, a life
differing at so many points from his own, he would learn
nothing.

The habitant is simply the farmer. The name was ,
given to those early settlers who remained to inhabit the
country, to distinguish them from officials, traders, and
others who were not expected to reside in it permanently.

For many years business relations have brought me
much into contact with the habitants, and for some years
past have induced me to live almost constantly among
them. My friends and acquaintances, finding so many
interesting points about the people, asked me many ques-
tions about them. As I had at some seasons of the year
a good deal of leisure it occurred to me to write out my
replies to these questions, and perhaps answer others not
yet asked and give some information not yet called for.

Naturally, the matter grew under my hand, and I
found after some time that my manuscript had increased

INTRODUCTION. XI

to rather a formidable pile, all the more so that since my
readers were expected to be only persons with whom I was
acquainted I had not taken pains to eliminate the personal
element. After the manuscript had passed from hand to
hand until it was worn almost to fragments, and after
many people had said, " 1 wish you would get this printed
and send me a copy," it was decided to put the matter into
type and reproduce in other forms some of the photo-
graphs and sketches that accompanied it.

What 1 had written related only to the French Cana-
dian people and to life in some country parishes. Nothing
was said about people of other races who came into the
country later, but now form an important though not very
large part of the population. They demand separate con-
sideration.

Nor had I said anything about the city of Quebec.
Abler writers have written of it often and well. But when
collecting my papers for the printer, 1 found I had some
photographs of the old gates of the city, now demolished.
As they were among the last to be taken and are becoming
somewhat rare, I decided to have them copied in half-tone
and inserted in this volume, partly as a means of pres-
ervation and partly because they may revive in some
people memories of the days before Quebec became mod-
ernized.

Public convenience doubtless required that the gates
and some parts of the old fortifications should be removed,
but their removal detracted very much from the pictur-
esqueness and distinctive character of the city.

>

Ji\\ INTRODUCTION.

The three gates now standing — two of them on the
sites of the old ones— are quite modern structures, and
harmonize only moderately well with the connecting walls.
One of them (Kent Gate) is entirely a recent opening, not
belonging to the old system of fortifications. Prescott
Gate, formerly standing on Mountain Hill, Palace Gate,
about half way up Palace Street, and Hope Gate have
entirely disappeared. Their sites may be easily located,
although the immediate surroundings have been very
much changed.

part 11

MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS
OF CANADA

MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS
OF CANADA

As one should always eat of the menu of the day and
drink of the wine of the country, so he who wishes to note
and most enjoy the distinctive features of Canada should
visit her in winter, for it is then that she wears her native
dress. Her summer habiliments, though beautiful and
fascinating, are only the dress of a f8te day. She begins
to decorate herself in May, but it is not till the days are
longest that she appears in her fullest glory. These tran-
sient adornments are again laid aside at the first touch of
September frosts, to reappear in their perfection only when
the June sun begins to run high. Such is the Canadian
season, — a short four months, in which Nature seems to
do all her out-of-door work. For the long remainder of
the year her retarded but no less potent activities are hid-
den from sight.

When 1 speak of Canada 1 mean the Canada of old ;j
what in the first half of this century was called Lower[
Canada, now the Province of Quebec. The other Prov-
inces of the eastern part of the Dominion of Canada have
their own distinctive features, but, with some exceptions,
they are of more ordinary, well known character. There
is grand scenery to be found in many other parts of the
Dominion also, but the special human interest of Lower
Canada is wanting. Lower Canada, the Province of
Quebec, has scenery, climate, institutions, people, history,
of its own, all peculiar and unlike those of any of the
other Provinces.

4 MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA.

It is of them and of them only that I propose to write,
and mainly, too, of country and winter life, of which the
ordinary tourist or visitor sees but very little.

Some people have an idea that the climate of Canada
in winter is that of the Arctic regions. The climate is
cold, it is true, but it is an endurable cold, dry and clear;
far less trying than the damp airs of eastern New Eng-
land, even at the difference of 10 or 15 degrees of the
thermometer. Still, many may be surprised to learn that
Quebec is 150 miles farther south than Paris, 325 miles
south of London, 675 miles south of Glasgow, and 1025
miles south of St. Petersburg. Westward from Quebec
the same parallel passes not far from Duluth, Minnesota,
and the mouth of the Columbia river. Crossing the
Pacific we should touch the northern part of Japan and
the southernmost points of Siberia, and then away across
the whole of China into southern Russia. Going east
on the same parallel we should pass near Lyons in France
and the line between Switzerland and Italy, and should go
far south of all Germany and through the southern part
of Hungary. It was said in the old " Peter Parley's Geog-
raphy," that I studied when I was a small boy, that Que-
bec has the summer of Paris and the winter of St. Peters-
burg.

The greatest cold that I have personally recorded was
38 degrees below zero, and that was in the woods. Prob-
ably in the city of Quebec or in particularly exposed places
it was at that time 42° or 45° below. But this was only
for a few hours, and it did not prevent the lumbermen
from working as usual. Of course feet and fingers, ears
and faces, would soon be frozen if carelessly exposed to
such a temperature ; but the workingman, thickly clad in
three or four heavy flannel shirts and pairs of trousers, and
with numberless pairs of stockings on his feet, experiences

MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA. 5

no inconvenience. From about 10° above to 10° below
zero, if without wind, is very comfortable winter weather,
and the Canadian climate furnishes a good deal of it. It
is not cold enough to interfere with almost any business
or pleasure that the people may have in hand.

The spring may be considered to come on late, but
once started, vegetation advances with wonderful rapidity.
Fields will usually be covered with snow till the middle of
April and sometimes even later, but in two or three days
after it is gone the grass is up fresh and bright. The
ground is seldom frozen deep before it is covered with
snow, and so as soon as the snow is gone the frost is out,
and on dry land ploughing can be commenced at once.

If the spring comes late, the autumn comes early.
Heavy frosts may be expected in September, and by the
middle of October everything liable to be damaged by
cold weather should be harvested.

Naturally, growth must be extremely rapid, so rapid in
fact that its progress is perceptible from day to day.

For instance, the writer had occasion to go to a fishing
camp which was on the edge of a lake and surrounded by
thick woods, on the 18th or 19th of May. In the open
country the roads were passable for wheeled vehicles, but
once in the woods the way was a succession of mud-holes
and snow-banks. The lake was crossed on the ice, and
on this occasion on foot, for greater caution, although
only two or three days before horses had crossed on it.
On the 20th the ice looked dangerous, and bits of open
water could be seen ; on the 21st these spaces were much
larger, and on the evening of the 22d scarcely any ice
was visible. The country people say it does not melt,
but becomes saturated with water and sinks nearly all at
once.

On the 20th there were few signs of spring noticeable,

6 MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA.

on the hills that faced to the north, opposite the camp.
We could discern a slight freshness in the evergreens and
some swelling of buds on birches and maples, but that was
all. The 21st showed a decided change, and on the 24th
those hills were almost a mass of verdure, growing thicker
and richer with each succeeding day. Still we had no
difficulty in finding snow in which to pack our fish.

On the 20th of September following, four months later,
the trees began to look decidedly brown, and every now
and then some bright crimsons of maples and yellows of
birches stood out sharply. The morning of the 21st
showed a wonderful change, and two or three days later
reds and yellows were the predominant colors, and the
evergreens had lost all their freshness. In only four
months all this mass of forest growth had budded, blos-
somed, ripened, and faded.

As in the forests so it is in the fields, and the farmer's
work on his crops must mainly be done in this short time.
But this time is a time of beauty. So much has been
said and written of the winter climate of Canada that
people are apt to think that it has no other, which is an
entirely erroneous idea. Later May and June are beauti-
ful, rich with ever-changing hues of springing grass and
bursting vegetation. July and August see them mature
and begin to ripen, while September and October are the
months of all-completed harvest. There is no dallying.
Nature keeps the farmer busy, and every day shows what
she is doing for him. It is not here that spring comes
slowly with scarcely noticeable steps, as in more southern
regions. She comes late but not slowly, opening suddenly
on us with a splendid outburst. Winter lingers, loath to
go and eager to come again ; but between the going and
the coming are some most delightful months— no scorch,

MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CJANADA. 7

ing heats, no debilitating nights, but an ever fresh and
invigorating air.

Oh, no, it is not always winter in Canada.

As in speaking of Canada I mean only the Province of
Quebec, and especially that part of it not very far from
the city of Quebec, so also in speaking of Canadians 1
mean only the French people of that Province ; for there
the French consider themselves the only true Canadians,
all others being, as it were, foreigners and, in a sense,
intruders. When not classed in a mass as Irish, from the
most numerous of the foreign nationalities, they are men-
tioned as either Irish, Scotch, English, or otherwise, but
not as Canadians. On the cars a few days ago a man
gave the population of his parish as so many " Irlandais "
and so many Canadians, meaning by " Irlandais " all those
not French. Americans resident in Canada fall into the
habit of making the same distinction to some extent. If
we speak of a person as a Canadian he is at once assumed
to be French. If he is not French we must designate his
origin, for among the French people generally to have
been born in Canada does not make a man a Canadian.
Some leaders of public feeling among the French encour-
age this sentiment. So English Canadians very generally
designate all citizens of the United States as Yankees,
although the French call them Americains. Not long ago
an American gentleman, being offended at the tone in
which the word Yankee was applied to his countrymen
by an English Canadian, retaliated by designating the
French people as Canadians and the others as " Kanucks."
Though it answered the speaker's purpose there was no
real sense in the distinction. Along the borders of the
States, and indeed throughout New England, the word
" Kanuck " is applied to Canadians generally.

The Province can and does claim an enormous extent

8 MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA.

of land yet unexplored. Whether much of it is even
worth exploring is not known ; at all events it is not
wanted or likely to be wanted for ages. It is hardly pos-
sible that there can be either cultivable land or valuable
timber on by far the greater part of it. A veteran sur-
veyor who was sent many years ago to explore for timber
the country far north of Lake St. John found nothing of
value and turned back. Possibly that may have been only
a local condition on account of the region having been
devastated by fire in some bygone century. A recent ex-
plorer is said to have found immense forests of spruce,
but the unauthenticated statements imputed to him are
not confirmed in his official report, and seem to pass the
limits of probability.

It is probable that agents and factors of the Hudson's
Bay Company could give much information about that
part of Canada if they would ; but the policy of the com-
pany has always been that of secrecy. Formerly no
explorer could go far into the company's territories with-
out help that could only be found at the company's posts.
If an unfortunate explorer needed help to get out he could
have it, but if one wanted to go in the other direction he
would find the obstacles almost insurmountable. Since
the Dominion Government has acquired jurisdiction over
that region, however, the difficulty has been somewhat
lessened, and government explorers at least have been able
to go wherever they desired.

The immediate valley of the St. Lawrence, once doubt-
less forming part of the bed of the river, is very narrow,
seldom more than one or two miles in width, and broken
by numerous points and headlands, on some of which are
now perched picturesque Canadian villages with their
equally picturesque parish churches. One can easily
imagine the delight of the first explorers of the river as

MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA. 9

they passed these lands, then covered with a luxurious
growth of elm, ash, and other trees that indicated a won-
derful fertility of soil. This magnificent verdure hid from
sight the inhospitable hills that were a short distance away.
But to the original settler the wood was his enemy, and
his first efforts were directed to cutting it down and clear-
ing it away. As there was no market for it, it could only
be burned.

The soil is a rich alluvium, and still yields abundantly.
Away from these fertile valleys of the St. Lawrence and
the rivers falling into it the land rises sharply in terraces
to other levels, with a sandy soil, extending to the base
of the hills. Most of this land is now cleared and culti-
vated, the lower levels with fair but the upper levels with
only very moderate results.

The main body of improved and cultivated land north
of the St. Lawrence is that lying between that river and the
Laurentian hills, which seem to come down to the water's
edge at Les Eboulements, about one hundred and fifty miles
below Quebec, and extend nearly west, losing their distinct-
ive name somewhere about north of Montreal, although in
fact the range continues to and beyond the head of Lake
Superior. As the general course of the river is towards
the northeast, the width of this cultivable strip generally
increases as one goes west. Near Quebec it does not
exceed nine miles, and continues about the same for some
sixty or seventy miles westerly, widening only slowly in
the main, but with considerable good land along the banks
of several tributary streams.

But when once we have reached the base of the Lauren-
tian hills the areas of good farming land are small and
scattered. It is only in the neighborhood of Lake St.
John that there is any considerable amount of it. Just
how much there is, is not really known and is the subject

10 MY FRIENDS, ?HE HABITAN? S OF CANADA.

of much dispute. The most extravagant claims are made
on the one hand, and even moderate estimates disal-
lowed on the other. This lake is some forty-five miles
long, with several large rivers flowing into it. All, or
nearly all, have very swift currents and innumerable falls
and rapids, so it is safe to assume that the greater part of
the land is mountainous. Although the farmers of that
region formerly had no considerable market nearer than
Quebec, one hundred and eighty miles away, over roads
only passable in winter, there have been some parishes
near the lake for many years. The Seigneur de Roberval
established a settlement there as early as 1650, but per-
ished in the wilderness.

In order to let these people get out and to try to get others
to go in, the Qnebec and Lake St. John Railway was built
a few years ago, and in these respects has been moder-
ately successful. A good many settlers have gone there,
and some at least are reported to be doing moderately well.
The climate, however, is treacherous, and although the
winters are claimed to be milder than those of Quebec,
late and early frosts are much to be feared. Still, many
intelligent and enthusiastic citizens have strong hopes that
the region will yet come to be an important section of
the Province.

On the south side of the St. Lawrence, approaching
what are known as the " Eastern Townships," the land is
very much better, level or gently rolling, with soil fertile
and easily worked. There, buildings have something of
the appearance of those of a well-to-do New England farm-
ing community. North of the St. Lawrence also, going
west from the city of Three Rivers (about ninety miles from
Quebec), wide, rich, and well cultivated farms, amply pro-
vided with substantial buildings of every kind, extend far
away from the river's bank.

THE REAPER

MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA. 11

These, however, are not the parts of the country I pro-
pose to write about, which are mainly the rougher and
less favored regions nearer the city of Quebec.

From the cabin on the lake already spoken of one
might follow the line of longitude to the North Pole with-
out seeing a house unless by accident some post of the
Hudson's Bay Company, isolated in the wilderness, should
be stumbled upon. Yet the lake is less than fifteen miles
from the thickly settled valley of the St. Lawrence, and
only some thirty miles from Quebec.

In these sections the average farmer would not be con-
sidered, in the States, to be a very thriving person. But
his wants are few and his tastes of the simplest, so that
he manages to feed his numerous children, pay his dues
to Church and State, and have a decent suit of clothes for
Sundays and holidays. He must be very poor indeed if
he cannot make a respectable appearance at church. It is
a matter of religion with him. He works less steadily
and with less intelligence than the New Englander, but
is twice as well satisfied with what he gets, and prob-
ably quite as hap-
py and contented.
He makes but little
progress in any di-
rection, but feels not
the slightest uneasi-
ness on that account.
He has a great deal
of the bliss that goes
with ignorance, al-
though the last two or three decades have seen much
change in this respect, and he no longer insists that what
was good enough for the fathers is good enough for him.

The farmers' principal crops are hay, oats, and potatoes.

12

MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA.

With these are some buckwheat and other articles of
minor importance, mainly for the family use. Some
tobacco is everywhere raised for home consumption, but
almost always of very inferior quality. A few cattle and
hogs, a little poultry, and a very few sheep are kept.
Canadian cows are small, but hardy and good milkers.

Since the gen-
%'•£* „, ^ _c^ — eral introduc-

Ifis^ts&ss^sStesssaK tion of butter

and cheese fac-
— -tories the prod-
uct of these ar-
ticles has great-
__"' ly increased
and the qual-
ity improved,
so that cattle

raising is a little more profitable than formerly. Some
years ago only the dairies of the best English and Scotch
farmers produced butter of very high grade, but now the
factories fully equal or surpass them. No strictly first-class
fat cattle are raised. The best beef on the Quebec market
mostly comes from the Province of Ontario or from the
" Eastern Townships," the counties along and near the line
of Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont. Neither is the
raising of horses profitable of late years. The race of
Canadian horses that was famous fifty or seventy -five
years ago has entirely disappeared, and its equal for speed
and hardiness has not been found. It seems a pity that a
breed so entirely suited to the general wants of the com-
munity should have become extinct. Short legged, heavy
bodied, and broad chested, with intelligent eyes and wide
nostrils, they could endure more hard work and hard fare
than any of the races that have supplanted them. With-

MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA. 13

out being extremely swift they were good drivers and
could take the traveler over as much road as he could
endure driving over in one day.

Women and girls help a good deal in field work but not
so generally now as formerly. It is not unusual to see a
horse and an ox harnessed together with a man holding
the plow and the woman driving. I saw a case of this
kind not long ago, as picturesque to the looker-on as it
was devoid of encouragement to the workers. The party
was plowing on the steep side of a broken gully in a sandy
soil where there seemed no possible chance of any crop
that would pay for an hour's labor. Man, woman, horse,
ox, plow, harness and land looked equally forlorn. A
little further on I passed a man and boy plowing while two
women and seven children were planting potatoes in the
furrows. One might think the family could almost eat
the expected harvest at a meal, so poor was the prospect of
a crop. In more favorable localities the women only work
at lighter tasks, making hay, harvesting grain and the
like. Women at work in a hay field in the pleasant sum-
mer weather are always a pretty sight, and they seem to
enjoy the occupation. In the old times, when all the grain
was cut with the sickle, there was much hard work for
women, and the rounded backs and shoulders of many of
the old farmers' wives still tell of the labors they endured.
Modern mowing and reaping machines have done much
for the women here.

Formerly a good deal of flax was raised, and home-
spun linen was the rule. Linen is now cheaper to buy
than to weave, and except by a few families where there
are many women for whom there is little employment
flax is not much cultivated.

The breaking of the flax affords one of the most pict-
uresque sights to be found. It is almost always done in

3

14 MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA.

some pretty little nook, where there is plenty of shade, and
where fire can be made without danger. Heat is necessary
to separate the fibre from the woody portions of the stalk,
and as flax is exceedingly inflammable there must be no
buildings near. It is dusty work, but as there are always
a number of women at it, and chatting can be kept up
almost without intermission, they like it.

Pleasant weather in the month of October adds the
charm of brilliant autumn foliage and bright sunshine.

But with all his labor and all his simplicity of life, on
the unfertile soils near the foot of the Laurentians, the
habitant cannot always succeed in making both ends meet,
and many uncultivated fields and deserted dwellings may
be seen, the owners of which have gone to seek kinder
fortunes elsewhere. The land yields well when first
cleared and while the ashes of the burned wood serve to
fertilize it, but when these are exhausted there is not much
good in the soil.

To some men of the younger generations of these hab-
, itants abandoned farms of New England have seemed to
offer greater temptations than their native country could
show them. The number of these farmers is not very
great but I understand that such as have taken such farms
have almost invariably been successful. Patient and
frugal, they are content with results that did] not satisfy
the more restless and ambitious Americans.

part ITU
ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH

ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH

THE stranger in Canadian forests, whether in sum-
mer or winter, will be surprised at the small amount
of animal life to be seen. In winter he will scarcely
see a bird unless it be an occasional partridge, now and
then a raven, and about his camp a few " whiskey jacks "
or crossbills. But if he roams much in the woods he
will find plenty of evidence of a life that does not show
itself openly. Tracks of rabbits, foxes, martens and squir-
rels will be found everywhere. Looking carefully along
by the banks of streams he may find tracks of otter, mink
or musk rat. If the stranger is a hunter and has a good
rifle under his arm he will be on the lookout for caribou,
almost the only large game now to be found here in
winter, for the moose is scarce in this region and the red
deer finds the snow too deep for his small feet and keeps
to places where there is less of it.

Caribou, however, are reasonably plenty, and the skilled
hunter need not pass many days during the proper season
without finding them. If they have not been disturbed
there will most likely be three or four and perhaps ten or
a dozen together. Although timid they are curious. They
sometimes wander into villages and have even been found
in fields, and driven to bams with cattle. Quite recently
one was seen one evening within a hundred yards of a
paper mill that was lighted up and running, and another
stood for some time where a man might have shot him
from his bedroom window. Such instances are somewhat
rare although not extremely so. The hunter who is for-

18 ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH.

tunate enough to get on a fresh trail will follow it up care-
fully, making as little noise as possible, and with a fair
chance of success. If the snow should be three feet or so
deep the caribou will not go far without stopping, unless he
is frightened. If he is, he can get away at a tremendous
pace, for his feet spread tolerably wide and the under part
of the hoof is somewhat concaved, causing the snow to
become solid under it instead of being merely thrust aside,
so that unless the snow is extremely light and soft they will
not go nearly to the bottom of it. He has also a way
quite peculiar to himself of putting his feet to the ground,
by which he brings the " dew-claws " or " accessory
hoofs," as they are sometimes called, to bear, which has
the effect of making a track twice or three times the size
of the hoof alone.

The caribou seems to have no idea whatever of per-
sonal comfort. He will lie down to rest in a bed of slush,
half snow and half ice water, or on a hillock of grass
scarcely above the water's edge. He has no fixed home
but wanders about wherever his fancies lead him, although
if he happens to hit on good feeding ground he may stay
some time in its neighborhood. His senses of hearing
and smell are very acute. I think, however, that loud
noises for which his instincts cannot account, confuse him.
The breaking of a twig may start a whole herd on the
run but if a rifle shot kills one of them the others may
circle about as if uncertain what direction to take. On
the Q. & L. St. J. Ry. some years ago some friends of
mine saw a herd of five from the car windows. They
stopped the train, got off and " went for " them.

The caribou has increased rapidly since the enactment
and partial enforcement of suitable game laws. Thorough
enforcement would be difficult The open season is now
from September first to February first, five months, but

ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH.

19

in effect these are practically almost reduced to two, for
there can be no great amount of successful hunting until
the ground is well covered with snow, usually about the
1st of December. The caribou shed their horns usually
in November, and the man who buys a fine panage
to ornament his dining room has some ground to suspect
that the animal was killed when he ought not to have
been. What becomes of all the horns dropped in the
woods ? The writer
has never found but
one and that a small
one. They are proba-
bly quickly found and
eaten by insects and
small rodents.

Mr. Caspar Whitney
in "On Snowshoes to
the Barren Grounds "
complains bitterly of
the absurd ways of his
Indians in hunting the

caribou, rushing, shout- Chasseur

ing and firing guns at

random instead of quietly stalking them. A gentleman
who has hunted caribou on the Barren Grounds east of
Hudson's Bay tells me that this is precisely the method of
the Indians in that region. They depend on getting them
confused so that they are uncertain where to go, and can
be cut down at will, for the caribou is, in the main, a very
stupid creature. The trouble with Mr. Whitney was that
he had not Indians enough.

To give an idea of the numbers of the caribou on the
edge of the Barren Grounds, a Hudson's Bay Co.'s factor
told an acquaintance of mine that he laid in a stock of

20 ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH.

nine hundred carcasses for the winter's supply of his post.
Another man tells me he has seen in Labrador herds
of three or four hundred. In the swamps of the interior
of Newfoundland similar herds are often seen.

The Barren Grounds extend, as doubtless most of my
readers know, nearly or quite across the Continent, from
the interior of Labrador on the east to Alaska on the west,
and from the limit of timber on the south away into the
Arctic Circle. In the depths of this region of desolation
Mr. Whitney says no living creature exists in winter
except the musk-ox. No vegetation except mosses and
lichens can be found there. Even the caribou merely
skirts its borders.

Moose are now seldom seen in this region. Hunting,
lumbering, settlements, and in some places railroads, have
either destroyed or driven them away. Not that they are
extinct by any means, for a few are found every year
within reach of hunters ; but if they are plenty anywhere
it is in places that the sportsman would find it hard to get
at. Only the Indian, who makes very little account
of distances and can exist almost anywhere, and to whom
the meat is valuable, could find it worth his while to follow
them to their haunts. For sporting purposes they appear
to be far more plentiful in Maine and Nova Scotia than
north of the St. Lawrence. Powerful as they are they do
not like too deep snow, and a crust is their abomination,
for they break through it and cut their legs. The writer
has never happened to meet one in the woods although
in his early experience, thirty or thirty-five years ago,
he very often came across their tracks and sometimes their
"yards." These "yards "are more exactly a net- work
of paths beaten in the deep snow on some good feeding
ground. There the animals remain, browsing within a
limited area for days or weeks at a time. They are likely

ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH. 21

also to return to the same neighborhood year after year,
finding a larger supply of fresh and tender twigs and
branches than in localities not previously cropped. If the
hunter finds one of these yards he is tolerably sure of his
game, for it cannot easily get far away. Whether shoot-
ing the creatures under such circumstances comes within
the limits of " sport " is another question. I have heard
that in the times when there was a garrison at Quebec in-
cluding many English officers who wanted amusement and
cared nothing for the cost, whenever Indians or others in
roaming about the woods found one of these yards they
would hasten to town and inform their clients, who would
return with their guides and shoot every moose to be
found.

Moose although scarce, as already stated, seem to be
slowly increasing in number under the operation of judi-
cious game laws.

Fur bearing animals have been driven away by civiliza-
tion, but hunters and trappers who will go far enough for
them still get a good supply. Necessarily, aside from the
numbers killed, they become more scarce as their habitats
are encroached upon. It is not merely that they are com-
pelled to migrate, but the natural balance is disturbed and
the struggle for life becomes too fierce for them.

The beaver, once so plentiful that their skins formed
the principal article of commerce of the country, ship-
ments of tens of thousands of them being made yearly,
are now almost as rare as the moose. They are not ex-
tinct or alarmingly near extinction, but persistent hunting
for three centuries and the advance of civilization have
not only reduced their numbers but driven most of the
remainder into other regions. I could still find new made
dams and lately built cabanes, but they are scarce. Hunt-
ing them in this Province is now forbidden until the year

22 ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH.

1900, which will give them a respite. They will perhaps
not return to their old homes but build new ones a few
miles away, for they are accustomed to migrate to some
extent. After inhabiting a certain neighborhood for a few
years they may suddenly desert it for no known reason
and establish themselves on other water courses, going
considerable distances over land and possibly directly over
some mountain in order to reach them.

Accounts of the wonderful sagacity of these little creat-
ures may be found in almost any work on natural history
but I have heard of one point that I do not remember to
have seen noted. Almost any woodsman felling trees
will occasionally let one fall so that it will lodge on other
trees and not come to the ground. The beaver never
does this. When he fells a tree it comes quite down and
always falls towards the water. Then with those sharp
little teeth of his he cuts it up into lengths that he can
handle and stacks them up for his winter's provision,
quite near to his cabane. His food is mainly the inner
bark and part of the sap-wood of birch, alder, mountain
ash and some other- deciduous trees. Unlike his neigh-
bor, the otter, he does not eat fish.

It is a little curious to note that in the history of the
early trade of the country little or no mention is made of
any skins except those of the beaver, and this at a time
when furs were the only export of Canada and when
other furs now accounted valuable were proportionately
plentiful.

A friend has given me a sectional sketch of a beaver's
cabane and many items of information about their habits,
some of which perhaps may not be generally known. I
can only give a few of his statements, as many of them
belong more properly to the realm of the naturalist. His
information was derived partly from much hunting of the

ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH. 23

animals during years of service with the Hudson's Bay
Co. and in part from Indians with whom his duties
brought him into constant intercourse and whose language
he speaks with perfect fluency. The Indians have num-
berless myths and superstitions concerning the beaver but
as my friend is a close observer he was able to reject what-
ever of their histories he did not find in accord with his
own conclusions.

The construction of the beaver's hut and his method of
building dams are very generally understood, but may be
new to some. Both are built of sticks somewhat inter-
laced and plastered and held together with clay. The
huts, in general size and shape, much resemble an ordinary
hay-cock. They are built close to the water's edge on
the banks of lakes whose outlets can be dammed. When
the water is low the beaver commences his hut and at the
same time begins to dam the stream. The hut is com-
pletely circular except for a space of say eighteen inches
in width, which he leaves for the purpose of ingress and
egress. As the hut progresses he raises the height of his
dam and when the water is high enough he arches over
this aperture also, so that the opening is at last entirely
under water. Then he goes on and completes his house.
The outside he leaves rough but if any sticks or bunches
of clay protrude on the inside those he gnaws off, leaving
the inner wall quite smooth. Then he proceeds to build
inside the hut a table or shelf, occupying the whole space
except that left for his doorway. This table he makes
slightly concave, filling up the hollow with chips, not of
short cuttings but of long strips, much like those thrown
off by a carpenter's plane. On this the beavers live and
sleep. The huts are high enough to allow them to sit up
on their haunches and play and amuse themselves to-
gether, which they do a great deal. They are great

24 ANIMAL LIFE AND FI$H.

chatterers and act as if they had a speech of their own.
As the otter will slide down a slippery bank into the water
and come out and slide again in pure play, precisely like
a parcel of schoolboys coasting, so the beaver disports
himself by jumping off a bank into the lake, using his
broad, flat tail to give himself a spring.

The shelf or table in the hut is from three to five inches
above the level of the water when the dam is finished. If
the water afterwards rises so that his house is in danger of
being flooded he goes to the dam and pulls out sticks
enough to let off the surplus. If the water goes down he
builds his dam higher.

The beaver does not usually eat in his cabin but goes
outside for his meals. The inside is always perfectly
clean and dry. Although he comes in from the water he
is not wet for the water runs off of him as from a duck's
back. He gives his feet, which may be slightly wet, a
little shake to throw the water off, so that he carries none
of it to his bed.

The female usually has two young at a birth, sometimes
four and very rarely six, always equally divided as to sex.
If the hut comes to be too small for the family it is en-
larged by gnawing away from the inside and building up
on the outside, always keeping the walls about eighteen
inches in thickness. A family or a part of the same fam-
ily may continue to occupy the same hut for successive
years, although they breed so rapidly that if unmolested
some must necessarily colonize. My friend does not say
but I have heard it said that they never mate in the same
family. If the colonists can find an old and partly dilap-
idated hut they will set themselves to repairing it rather
than build a new one, for which no one who observes the
amount of labor expended on one can in any way blame
them.

HOPE GATE

ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH. 25

If anyone reproaches me for having been led away to
tell about beavers instead of sticking to " my friends, the
habitants," I can only ask him to be a little indulgent and
to try to look on the beavers themselves as habitants,
predecessors of all the others, and without whom the
others would not have existed. Perhaps, too, there are
some people to whom the habits of one class are as inter-
esting as those of the other.

The comparative scarcity of birds in the woods is easily
accounted for. There is but little for them to eat ; few
nuts, worms or insects, grains or grasses. Nut bearing
trees are few and of insects the only ones that seem to be
superabundant are black flies and mosquitoes. Of these
in their season there seem to be far too many, but per-
haps if there were less something else would go wrong
and we may be better of with them. Doubtless they
serve some useful purpose although it would be hard
to convince the summer fisherman that such was the case.
Of birds of prey there
are few except owls and
some hawks. Nearly all
the birds native to the
northern states exist al-
so in this part of Canada
but not in generally
great numbers. Ducks
breed in suitable locali-
ties but migrate early.
The wild goose is not
rare. Loons are plenty ;
being fish eaters they do
not depend on the same
conditions as most other
Species. Chasseuse.

26 ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH.

Along the banks of the St. Lawrence a good many
ducks of various kinds, snipe, plover and other small shore
birds, are to be found at the proper season and are eagerly
hunted. Partridges abound and an occasional woodcock
may be " raised," though they are scarce. I know of one
family of which the young ladies. formerly joined their
brothers in their hunting expeditions and were almost
equally as successful as they. As these ladies, however,
are now all married and gone to other quarters of the
globe, I imagine that strolling photographers are not likely
to meet them on the shores of the St. Lawrence any more.

Within a few years the inland fisheries of Canada have
become important. The building of the Quebec & Lake
St. John Railway opened up a region full of lakes and
streams that teemed with trout. It was known before,
but was difficult of access. The lands and waters belong
almost entirely to the Provincial Government, which has
now leased to individuals or clubs fishing privileges on
nearly all that can be reached without extreme difficulty.
Of clubs there is a considerable number, the majority
composed of Americans. Some of them control waters
within very large areas, including 20, 50 or 100 lakes,
many of which the members of the clubs never have seen
and probably never will see. Of course not all of them
are good fishing waters, but enough are good to afford as
fine trout fishing as is known. The whole range of the
Laurentian hills is full of lakes and streams. In almost
every stream are trout, sometimes large in proportion to
its size, but depending also on various other conditions.
The best trout fishing in the lakes is likely to be in those
highest up among the hills. Where, as very often happens,
there is a succession or chain of lakes, it is probable that
only one or two will afford good fishing for fontinalis.
The others may be more or less stocked with " namaycush "

ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH. 27

or lake trout (known under various names in different
places), but they are rarely fished for sport. I have not
heard of any fontinalis being taken quite as large as the
largest from the Rangeleys and some other Maine lakes,
but fish of three, four or five pounds are not scarce.

Those large ones will seldom rise to the fly, except
during a few days in late May or early June and a few
days in the autumn. At other times they must be fished
for either by trolling or with bait in deep water, a kind of
fishing that the real sportsman is not likely to care for very
much. He will ordinarily prefer a two-pound trout taken
with the fly to one of five or six pounds caught with bait.
Nor even in fly fishing is the quality of the sport alto-
gether dependent on the size of the fish, although the fish-
erman is naturally ambitious to take the largest that is to
be had. A trout of a pound and a-half weight in an eddy
of some swirling rapid will give the sportsman more satis-
faction than one of three pounds in quiet waters, or one of
two pounds in a clear, cool lake, more than one of five
pounds in richer waters where food is plentiful and the
fish are " logy." Really the nicest trout for the table are
those weighing about a pound or a little more or less.

The Q. & L. St. J. Ry. has also opened access to the
haunts of the ouananiche, considered by those who know
it well to be second only to the salmon as a game fish.
It is in fact a smaller salmon and differs little, if at all,
from the true salmon (salmo salai) except in size, and in
the fact that it does not go to the salt water. The name
is Indian and the termination " iche " means only " little,"
so that " little salmon " is the interpretation of the word
ouananiche. The numerous rivers flowing into Lake St.
John are well stocked with them, and its outlets, the
Grande and Petite Decharges, which join to make that
wonderful river, the Saguenay, afford some of the finest

28 ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH.

fishing on the Continent. These fish love the wildest
rapids and no waters seem too swift or broken for them.
Their strength and gameness are wonderful. The novice
will in all probability lose many fish and much tackle be-
fore he learns their ways. They were formerly thought
to be indigenous only to the waters of Grand lake, on the
borders of Maine and New Brunswick, and to Lake St.
John and its tributaries, but it is now known that some of
the rivers of Labrador are teeming with them.

The salmon fisheries of the streams flowing into the St.
Lawrence are too well known to need special reference.
They are all under lease, largely to Americans. The
rentals range all the way from $25 to $6,000 per annum.

The fisheries of the lower St. Lawrence are varied and
valuable. Those of the upper St. Lawrence, above Que-
bec and below Montreal, are of small individual but con-
siderable aggregate importance to the local consumers.
The fish are mostly taken in nets or traps. The only
kinds that give the people any amusement in the catch-
ing are the smelt and the " tommy cod." The former do
not go much above Quebec, where they are caught with
rod and bait as in thousands of other places. But the
" tommy cod," the petite morue of the French people,
goes up to the head of tide-water, some 90 miles above
Quebec, to spawn about Christmas and continues about
three weeks ; not longer. They are caught in different
ways, sometimes with traps and scoop nets, but more gen-
erally with hand lines through holes cut in the ice, from little
cabins set just along the line of rocks that borders the
channel on the north side. They do not frequent the
south side any more than do the shad (of which a few are
taken in their season) cross to the north. Nor do they
wander far onto the flats or out into the strong current.
When the tide runs strong they disappear. One may sit

ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH. 29

and bob for hours without a bite, but at about high or low
water they take hold well. The night tides are best, and
not seldom a couple of men or boys may take four, five
or six hundred in a night. They usually are sold frozen,
at about fifty cents the bushel. A bushel would be prob-
ably about 250 fish. They are fairly good eating and go
far to help the villagers through Lent.

By about the fifth of January they first begin to go
down the river again, ravenously hungry, but so thin and
poor as to be almost uneatable. The value of the season's
catch at one village not more important than several others
along the river, was not long ago estimated at $2,000.

part iririr

OCCUPATIONS

OCCUPATIONS

THE principal winter industry of the men in this region,
except those who have farms important enough to demand
their whole attention, and except those occupied in ordi-
nary mechanical work, such as shoe makers, carriage mak-
ers and the like, is lumbering. The larger farmers them-
selves have no small amount of work to do in the woods,
for the firewood for the year in a climate like that of
Canada is a heavy item, and it is also they who are
called on to supply all the material for building and mis-
cellaneous purposes, except that produced by mill owners.
This is produced in the larger mills in only a limited num-
ber of shapes, for the logs cut for the purpose of com-
merce are intended to be made chiefly into deals for the
English market. The standard dimensions of a deal are 12
feet long, 9 inches wide and 3 inches thick. Other di-
mensions are made in order that no timber may be wasted,
but the chief effort of the saw mill owner is to produce
deals, either 12 or 14 feet long. Only that which cannot
be made into deals is sawn into boards, to be sold in
American markets. I refer now mainly to the region
referred to above. In some other sections other ends are
aimed at, but of those I do not now speak.

The larger farmers being occupied with routine and
occasional business, the smaller ones, some unemployed
mechanics, and many day laborers, whose ordinary occu-
pations are suspended during the winter, go into the woods
when the lumbering season comes round.

Lumbering works are not now generally conducted as

34 OCCUPATIONS.

they were in former times, and as they are still in other
parts of the country. Where timber is plenty, large camps,
accommodating 30, 40 or 50 men, are built ; but where it
is scattering the logs are made by jobbers, who cut and
draw them to the water's edge at an agreed price per
hundred.

The jobbers are usually two or three neighbors, or
sometimes a man with one or two sons, who work to-
gether and divide their earnings. The plan suits both em-
ployer and employe. The former is rid of a good deal of
care and superintendence and the latter is independent of
any foreman. He can work when he pleases, and if it suits
him to leave the woods and go home he is at liberty to do
so, and generally does. The amount of time lost in this
way is very great. The jobber is pretty sure to go home
for the holidays and he starts a day or two before Christ-
mas, so as to be sure. New Years Day is a more import-
ant fete even than Christmas, and the Jour des T^pis
(Epiphany) comes so soon after that he thinks it not
worth while to go back until it is over. Then it takes
him one or two days more to get ready, so that very often
he will use up three full weeks out of the best of the sea-
son. He has promised to make a certain number of logs
during the winter and perhaps will do it, but if he does not
he is not likely to be sued for damages, and is not much
concerned. He can make the logs cheaper than the em-
ployer could do it by .hiring men, for he can support him-
self alone for less than it would cost to feed him in a large
camp. He would grumble fearfully if he were fed no
better than he feeds himself.

For a large number of men the employer would be
obliged to build a camp with separate stables for the
horses, which might cost him two or three hundred dollars,
whereas the jobbers can put up a camp in a couple of days

OCCUPATIONS.

35

that will accommodate both them and their horses as
well. They all live together, perhaps with a dog and a
variety of insects.
A jobber's camp is
not always a pleas-
ant place to sleep in
for the stranger
whose prejudices
are in favor of clean-
liness. The fare is
simple and cheap,
consisting mainly of
bread, pork and pea
soup. The soup ket-
tle is always on the

Loggers' Camp.

fire, never exhausted — and never washed. Pork, peas and
water are put into it as required, and the soup goes on
continuously until the winter's work is done. Once in a
while a man will have a pot of tea, and if the jobber is a
farmer he may perhaps bring some potatoes to the camp,
but such luxuries are not usual.

The men get out to their work early and work as long
as they can see, but in the short winter days this is not
too long, and the work does not usually demand long con-
tinued strenuous exertions, so the men are likely to come
out of the woods in the spring fat and hearty, while the
poor horses look thin and discouraged. It is the horses
who have the hardest time, for although the main road
from where the logs are made is usually kept in excellent
order, and almost always either level or down-hill, yet all
that is done for the numerous branch roads is to make it
possible to get over them. If a horse can go he must go,
and that is all there is about it. To reach the logs he may
have to flounder through snow nearly to his belly, up hills

36

OCCUPATIONS.

and over rocks, but the logs must come out and he must get
to them, though it strains every muscle. And if it is hard
to get up the hills with the empty log-sled it is not easier
to get down with a load, for the way is steep and crooked
in places, and he sometimes has to hold back hard, and
gets sadly knocked about. A very simple and admirably
effective way of arranging the shafts of the sled, however,
reduces his trials immensely and he soon learns how to
handle himself.

Loggers' Sled.

The drawing of logs in this country is all done by single
horses and the powerful ox teams used in other regions
are never seen here. A habitant jobber may occasionally
have an ox, but he is always harnessed like a horse and
driven with reins. The oxen are so small and slow that
it seems impossible for them to accomplish much, but it
costs less to keep them, they are less liable to accidents
and diseases than horses, and if anything happens to them
they may be killed and eaten, which is no small consider-
ation to the poor habitant.

The net earnings of the jobber probably amount to less

OCCUPATIONS. 37

than he might have had in a large camp, where he would
be hired by the month, fed, and furnished with tools, etc.,
but he has the satisfaction of not working so hard and of
being, in the main, his own master. He can always make
use of his horses, and of his boys if he has any of suitable
age, to drive them.

The wanderer in the woods will often hear the loud
shout of ",-viens done;' " marcbe done" or " arrete
done" with the last syllable long drawn out, as the first
evidence that he is near a lumberman's road. A Canadian
in the woods could not drive without yelling at the top of
his voice ; but the horse soon learns to pay very little at-
tention to the cries.

I have been very much amused on some of my jour-
neys at a certain old veteran beast of the shanties which,
when the ground is bare, draws my luggage over a cer-
tain piece of wood on a sled with wooden runners. The
load is never heavy, but there are many mud -holes and
rocky places. When the road suits the old horse he will
go in it, but when he finds what seems to him a better
place to pass he will take to that, and not all the ear-
splitting yells of his driver, who is generally walking along
some distance in the rear, can stop him. He will drag
his load over rocks or fallen trees at any conceivable
angle, but if it actually upsets, or the sled strikes against
a root or a stump, he wastes no strength in useless exer-
tions but quietly stops and crops the twigs within his reach
until his driver comes up. Then when a lift or a push
releases him, he responds to a mildly spoken "g-i-o-c"
and goes on. Cries of " arrete done" with a dozen dif-
ferent inflections, in a voice that could easily be heard
half a mile, make no impression on" him, but the quiet
order is obeyed.

The boys get into the woods at an early age. Where

38 OCCUPATIONS.

the hauling is not difficult, a boy of fourteen or fifteen
years can be made very useful. The jobber's work is fin-
ished when he gets the logs to the water's edge. He has
nothing to do with the " drive," though he may be em-
ployed on it, but that is altogether another story.

Driving logs has been described scores of times. The
work is often exciting, sometimes dangerous, and always
attended with hardships. It must be carried on in all
weathers, sleep and food must be taken when they can be
had, and wet clothing is the rule. Only the young and
vigorous are fit for it.

The writer recently had an opportunity to witness part
of a drive, that while on a very small scale, showed thor-
oughly characteristic features.

My duties required me to go into the woods and among
the loggers' camps. Tired of sharing the scanty quarters
of the jobbers, where sometimes a bench, a table or a pile
of wood was the only available bed, or even of claiming
the hospitality of the larger camps, I had built for myself
a comfortable cabin at a convenient point for all my jour-
neys, and on the border of one of the most charming of
all Canadian lakes. Not that I was ever unkindly received
in the camps, and many a time has a jobber slept on the
floor or a foreman shared the bunks of his men in order
to give me the best accommodation possible.

The outlet of this lake falls something over four hun-
dred feet in half a mile, and is wild, rocky and picturesque,
as may well be imagined.

Much money and 'labor and a dam at the head of the
discharge had made it available for driving logs, of which
about 7,000 were ready at this time to be sent down. As
they were lying quietly in the lake, I remarked to the
friend with me how nice and clean and handsome they
looked, to which my woodranger, who was with us, ans-

OCCUPATIONS. 39

wered, " ll-y-en a qui vont se cogner la tete bien vite"
It was only saying that some of them were going to get
their heads bumped very soon, but somehow the expres-
sion seemed to sound much more picturesque in French
than in English.

The dam was opened and we ran along the bank,
watching the logs go down. They were tossed from one
side of the stream to the other, knocking against rocks,
rolled over a thousand times, and once in a while turned
quite end over end. The thundering of their striking the
rocks and of the rushing water was so great that we could
hardly hear each other's voices. In ten minutes from the
time we had seen them lying peaceably at the outlet of the
lake some of them began to collect in a pool below, their
ends all battered and splintered, the bark rubbed off or
torn and hanging in long strips.

A "jam" occurred just when we were in a capital
position to see it and we looked on and applauded the
skill and daring with which the men broke it up. When
the one log that formed the key to the whole was removed
and the great pile melted away as it were in a few seconds,
we could not resist the inclination to shake the hand of
the foreman of the gang of drivers and congratulate him
on a difficult and dangerous work well done. We liked
him for the care he took that if a man was compelled to
go to a place of special danger, every precaution should
be taken for his escape or rescue.

The lake of which I have spoken is separated by a strip
of land about 150 yards wide from another lake which
lies some 250 feet below it. Before it was found possible
to make the outlet of our lake available for driving logs it
was customary to send the logs made around that lake
into the other by means of a " slide," which was simply
two parallel lines of timber laid not quite so far apart as

40 OCCUPATIONS.

the diameter of a log. The logs were sent down endwise,
and of course the velocity was tremendous, the slide being
laid at an angle of about 35°. The story is that although
the water at the foot of the slide was over 200 feet deep
the logs falling into it went quite to the bottom and came
up bringing sand and pebbles with them. Also, that if a
log going down struck on another log already in the water
it would break it sharp in two.

This was mainly correct enough except as to the depth
of water, which can hardly be more than 50 or 60 feet at
that point. Also, one log dropping from such a height on-
to another would almost certainly splinter it, but it would
require a most extraordinary concatenation of circum-
stances to break one quite in two. But the best part of
the story was that if a small log coming down endwise
struck quite squarely on a large one floating below it
would go through it clean " just like a cannon ball."

The cliff down which the slide was laid extends for
about three miles on one side of a river and lake and is
considered by many to be finer than the palisades of the
Hudson. Its average height is not far from 250 feet, and
except in two or three places where there are breaks it is
almost or quite perpendicular. The opposite bank, only
200 or 300 yards away, is low and rises only gently for a
long distance back. It must have been a wonderful con-
vulsion of nature that resulted in such a formation.

Looking up at the cliff from below one is surprised to
see how little soil is necessary to the growth of a tree.
From very trifling crevices in the rock, where only a mere
handful of earth could be lodged, we find trees and large
bushes springing. Their roots find a way into the cracks
somehow and hold on most wonderfully. I know espe-
cially of one considerable cedar that appears to have
crawled out of a hole where there is no sign of earth.

OCCUPATIONS. 41

Indeed, it is wonderful that the masses of stone that com-
pose these Laurentian hills can support such a dense forest
as they do. There is scarcely any earth at all visible;
nothing but rocks covered with decayed leaves and rotten
wood. It will all burn like tinder when once the fire gets
into it. That is why the forest fires are so terribly de-
structive in this country. I once left a camp fire not
thoroughly extinguished, and when I came back to the
place after two or three days smoke and steam were coming
out of the ground several feet away in every direction, and
a great rocky cavity was where my fire had been. Rain
had moistened the surface and extinguished any blaze, but
the fire was working underneath and might have broken
out again after days or even weeks, devastating many
miles of timber land. Very many fires are caused in this
way, through the carelessness of hunters and fishermen.
I have not been blameworthy in that respect since that
time.

Lumber merchants claim that many times more timber
is destroyed by fire than by the axe. We are constantly
meeting with the evidences of fires, some recent and some
of many years ago. A friend once told me that away up
beyond Lake St. John he had found what he thought
were signs of three distinct fires that had passed over the
same land at long intervals. The fires may have been
caused by savages, who once roamed in those dreary and
inhospitable regions in large numbers, though my friend
thought not.

Part 1TID

AMUSEMENTS
CONTES AND RACONTEURS

1

AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND
RACONTEURS

FOR amusement in winter there is endless visiting of
course, with chatter accordingly. Three or four Canadian
women together can keep up a clatter that would put a
shopful of sewing machines to the blush. Since social
dancing has been disapproved the principal amusements
are talking, singing and card playing. Sometimes when
a lot of young people get together simple games are in-
dulged in. " Kissing games " are of course tabooed ; but
other games involving forfeits, such as are known almost
everywhere under various names, are played. These may
be boisterous but are almost never rude.

Athletic sports are almost unknown in the country
parishes. The young men seem to think they can get all
the exercise they need in their ordinary occupations.
Such games as foot ball, base ball, cricket, hockey, la-
crosse, tennis and the like are never seen, and even skating
and sliding are almost entirely confined to the small boys.

For amusement for the men in the woods there is not
much. In jobbers' camps there is almost none at all ex-
cept when some stranger or visitor happens to come in.
The jobbers get their suppers, smoke their pipes and go
to bed. They are up again at four or half past four in
the morning to feed their horses, breakfast, and be at
their work as soon as it is light enough to see.

In the large camps where many men are together some
of them will want to do something to pass away the time.
5

46 AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS.

A few will play cards, some may play draughts, and there
will surely be some who sing. Very likely there will be
a fiddler in the party and some may dance jigs. These
amusements, however, are mostly kept for Sunday after-
noons and evenings. Sunday mornings are devoted to
loafing and chat. Perhaps the foreman may wash and
shave, but the men do not often give themselves that
trouble.

When the usual hour for church service arrives all will
be quiet; and during the time that the mass is being cele-
brated in the churches the men will kneel and repeat their
prayers. Sometimes there will be a leader and the others
will only give responses, and sometimes each will say his
prayers for himself. Some will get through a little sooner
than the others, but until the last man is done there is no
disturbance. For the rest of the day the men are at lib-
erty to amuse themselves as they like. As a fact they do
little except sleep or go hunting or fishing, and only a few
have guns or lines. They must also get their own suppers
for Sunday afternoon is the cook's holiday and he is not
obliged to cook for them.

After supper is the time for general amusements, — sing-
ing, dancing, card playing, or whatever is allowable. But
the greatest entertainer of all is the "raconteur" or story-
teller.

I should never be able to tell of contes and raconteurs
without referring at once to our faithful ranger Nazaire,
as we call him, in his early and middle life a prince among
story-tellers. And if I begin to speak of him I shall be
liable to bring in also my own experience with him, for
we have been in the woods together for many a year,
through sunshine and storm, pleasure and hardship. As
much the entertaining companion and devoted friend as
the honored and trusted employe, he has been my guide
and associate in numberless wanderings.

Nazaire

AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 47

Having him with me I was sure of a welcome in any
camp, for if the men cared nothing for me they all knew
and liked Nazaire and were sure of an evening's enter-
tainment. Many a conte have I heard from him that I
sincerely wish I could write down. I remember distinctly
only two, and one of those I have never been able to
translate in such a manner as to give any idea whatever
of the spirit of the story. I shall give it in French and
whoever likes to try his hand at it is welcome to do so.

Nazaire's soirees in camp usually began with about half
an hour's talk about woods, logs, the depth of the snow,
what this man, that, and the other was doing, and similar
matters of general interest. Then someone who knew
how to lead the good man on would probably tell some
improbable or impossible story. Nazaire had one to give
back at the shortest notice. I remember one occasion
(which will serve as a sample of many others) when he
told the following along with many other similar stories,
but I cannot hope or attempt to give any idea of the spirit
and variety of his narration :

There was once a very famous hunter named Dalbec, who lived in
the village of Ste. Anne. He had been hunting all day and was re-
turning home when he came to a little round lake, on the opposite
side of which he saw a fox. Just as he raised his gun to fire six
ducks came sailing from under the bushes nearer to him. He hesi-
tated at which to shoot, and decided to try his chances at both.
Placing the barrel of his long gun between two trees, he bent it into
a quarter of a circle, fired at the ducks, killed them all, killed the fox
also, and the bullet came back and broke the leg of his dog that was
standing by him.

Someone else then told a story of seeing from a barn
window two bears standing on their hind legs and wrest-
ling like two men. This anecdote he declared was abso-
lutely true.

This reminded Nazaire of another story about Dalbec :

48 AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS.

Dalbec was in the woods making maple sugar, when he saw a bear
coming round as if bent on mischief. Having no gun Dalbec crawled
under an empty hogshead (such as are often used to hold the sap as
it is collected). The bear came smelling up, trying to find a way to
get in. At the right moment Dalbec reached his hand through the
bung-hole and seized him by the tail. The bear started off on a
run down the hill, dragging the hogshead after him with Dalbec in-
side of it. They came to a lot of fallen timber, where the hogshead
stuck, but Dalbec held on till the tail came out and the bear escaped.

The fact that the bear has no tail of which a person
could take hold does not affect the truth of this story.

What on this special occasion interested me more than
the stories themselves, was Nazaire's account of how Dal-
bec, who was a real personage and a great hunter, and an-
other hunter, equally celebrated and his special rival,
would get a crowd of people about them on Sundays
after vespers were over and tell their wonderful yarns
with perfect sobriety, neither of them questioning a word
of anything that the other might say, but occasionally
putting in a word of assent, such as " c'etait bienfait"
(that was well done) or " c'est bien mai " (that is quite
true), and then going on to tell something still more sur-
prising himself.

Such a picture can readily be imagined by those famil-
iar with the scenes about the church doors on a pleasant
Sunday after the services of the day are finished. The
rest of the day is given up to social entertainments of a
quiet character and to moderate recreations— music, card-
playing, and the like.

Dancing on Sundays was never allowed in Canada, nor
are loud and boisterous assemblies permitted. Political
meetings, however, are usually held on Sundays. Trot-
ting horses is not particularly objected to, nor is driving
about on any business errand ; but all labor is generally
suspended quite as much as in any New England village.

AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 49

I was very much amused not very long ago when I was
speaking of this story of Daltec to some people at a
place where we were calling. One of the women about
the house overheard it and remarked, '' That story about
Dalbec is not true. I knew those Dalbecs and 1 should
have heard of it." She thought the stories had been told
as facts.

On the occasion 1 have mentioned our surveyor was not
to be outdone by any story-teller, and told with a solem-
nity worthy of Dalbec himself an incident that he said
happened to himself :

He was walking in the woods, he said, on a narrow
path, when he met a bear face to face. Every one knows
how quickly a bear can turn around. The bear rose on
his hind feet just at the instant the surveyor tired at him,
and so quickly did he turn that the course of the ball go-
ing through his body was changed and it came out and
struck the surveyor on the shin.

Then came another story about Dalbec :

He had been ploughing one day and at night just as he was going
to put his horse in the barn he heard a flock of wild geese in the air
over his head. He went into the house and got his gun, but it was
so dark he could see nothing. Still hearing the noise he fired in the
direction from which it came. As no birds fell he concluded he had
missed them, so he went into the house, ate his supper and went to
bed. In the morning he was going for his horse again when just as
he was stepping out of doors a goose fell at his feet. It was one of
those he had shot at and it had been so high up it had been all night
in falling.

And still another :

It was the morning of the " Tonssaint " (All Saints' Day) that Dal-
bec had gone out early, shooting. He had expended all his ammu-
nition and was returning home when he saw a flock of wild ducks
swimming about among the timbers of a raft that had gone ashore
at the mouth of the river. The water was cold, but Dalbec went
into it up to his neck and waded round until he could reach under

$0 AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS.

the logs and get hold of the legs of a duck. When he caught one he
pulled it quickly under the water and fastened it to his belt. In this
way he secured about a dozen. All of a sudden he felt a commo-
tion, and before he knew what was happening he found himself
raised into the air and carried off. A strong northeasterly gale was
blowing and away he went up the St. Lawrence. Just as he passed
the church at St. Anne he heard the first bell of the mass sound, and
he wished he had stayed at home instead of going shooting. At the
rate at which he was going he had not much time to think; but
presently he realized that something had got to be done. He reached
down and twisted the neck of one of the ducks. That let him down
a little and he twisted another. So he kept on until, when he had
done with them all, he found himself dropped on the ground in
front of the church at Sorel, and heard the second bell of the mass.
He had been carried seventy-five miles up the river in just half an
hour.

After a round of stories like these there would be a call
for a " conte" started by one and echoed by all the rest.
The men would gather round, forming groups that I have
many times vainly wished and quite as vainly tried to
sketch, and after a proper show of reluctance and the cor-
responding amount of persuasion, Nazaire would begin
with the " Tiens-bon-ld" following it up with " L'bistoire
de mon petit difuntfrere Loui^on"

A good story-teller like Nazaire is always a welcome
visitor at a lumberman's camp. As few of the men can
read they are glad of someone who can entertain them.
They talk incessantly, but the range of conversation is
limited, and they no doubt get tired of hearing each
other's personal achievements and adventures, which are
their principal subjects.

I have heard a good raconteur go on two hours with
one of his stories, and there are some stories that occupy
two evenings in the telling. They are mostly fairy stories
in which there is almost always a "jeune prince': and a
"jeune princesse" Where they come from in general

$2 AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS.

I do not know, but a few are from the " Thousand and
One Nights." A great many probably have never been
printed, but handed down in traditions. Some, such as
the flight of Dalbec, seem like localized versions of old,
widely distributed tales.

I will try to give from my recollection a rude transla-
tion of " The Tiens-bon-la " as a specimen :

There was once a cure who was in love with a baker's wife. He
tried in various ways to get rid of the baker, but without success.

They lived in the capital of the kingdom, where the king resided.
Now in front of the king's palace was a great lake of more than
twelve thousand acres. One morning the cure went to the palace
and knocked at the door. When the king came out he said to him,
" Sire, mon Roi, there is a man in the city who boasts that in less
than twice twenty-four hours he can change this lake into a beautiful
meadow, covered with grass that would give hay enough for all your
majesty's horses, and would be for the great advantage of the
crown." Then the king said " Who is this man ?" The cure ans-
wered, " He is no less than the baker who furnishes your majesty
with bread," so the king said " I will send for him."

The cure went away and the king sent a letter to the baker saying
that he wanted to see him. The baker thought he was to get his
pay for the bread he had provided for the king and all his servants
and soldiers. So he was very glad and went quickly to the palace
and knocked at the door. When the king came out he asked what
was wanted of him. The king answered that he had heard that he
had boasted that in less than twice twenty-four hours he could
change all that lake into a beautiful meadow, covered with grass and
clover that would feed all the king's horses, and would be a great
advantage to the crown. Now, unless within twice twenty-four
hours the lake was changed into a meadow the baker should be hung
before the door of the palace.

Then the king turned away and the baker went out discouraged
for he did not know what to do. He walked off into the woods'
and sat down on a log to weep. After a long time an old woman
came and asked what was the matter. He said he was very miser-
able for he was going to be hanged in twice twenty -four hours. The
king had commanded him to change all that lake into a meadow,
covered with grass and clover, and he was not able to do it. Now

AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 53

this old woman was a fairy (Il-y-avait des Fees dans ce temps la) and
when he had done speaking she told him not to be troubled but to go
to sleep. So he went to sleep, and when he had slept an hour he was
awakened by the smell of hay, and when he looked about him he
saw that the lake was all gone and that there was only a river that
ran through the middle of a beautiful meadow. Then the fairy told
him to go to the king and show him what he had done. He went to
the palace and when he came near he saw the king looking out of
the window at the meadow, and all the men and horses at work
making hay. He knocked at the door, and when the king came
down stairs he asked him if he was satisfied. The king said he was
not satisfied, because the river had been left running through the
middle of the meadow. The baker told the king that the river had
been left for the convenience of the animals and to help in making
hay, because there was so much of it that all the horses in the king-
dom could not draw it, and it would have to be brought in boats.
Then the king was satisfied, and sent the baker away.

Soon the cure' came again and the king showed him the meadow
and the men and women and horses making hay. The cure was
much surprised to see all this, but he did not say so, and went on to
tell the king that he had no doubt the baker could do a great deal
more than that, for he had boasted that he could make a " tiens-bon-
la" for the king that would be worth a great deal more than the
meadow and would be a great advantage to the crown. " What is a
' tiens-bon-la ?'" asked the king. "I do not know," answered the
priest ; " but the baker said he could make one." " I will send for
him," said the king. So he wrote to the baker, who was just mak-
ing his bread. When he had put it into the oven he went to the
palace and knocked again and the king came to the door. The king
said "I have heard that you boasted that you can make a ' tiens-bon-
la' that would be worth more than the meadow, and a great advan-
tage to the crown. Now you shall go home and make it, and unless
you bring it to me in twice twenty-four hours you shall be hanged
before the palace gate." The baker asked "What is a' tiens-bon-la ?' "
The king replied that he did not know, but that he must have one
within twice twenty-four hours. Then he went into his palace
again. The poor baker went away more disconsolate than before.
He had no idea what a " tiens-bon-la " was ; but yet he would be
hanged unless he made one within twice twenty-four hours. He went
out into the forest again and sat down on the same log that he sat on

$4 AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS.

before. He cried as hard as he could. When he had cried himself to
sleep the fairy came again and waked him up and asked him what was
the matter. He told her that he should certainly be hanged this time
•for he had been ordered to make a " tiens-bon-la" for the king and he
did not know what it was. Then the fairy said, " It is only that
wicked priest who is in love with your wife and wants to get rid of
you. You must do what I tell you and the priest shall be punished,
* and we will make a " tiens-bon-la " that will satisfy the king. Go
to your house and tell your wife that you are commanded to make
a " tiens-bon-la " for the king and you have nothing to make it of.
So you must tell her that you must go away for two days to buy
some iron, leather, wood and cloth to make it of. Tell her to put
two days' provisions in a bag for you, and when she has them all
ready you will go to your room and take the latch off the window.
Then you will say good-bye to your wife and walk about the city
until it is dark. As soon as you are gone your wife will send for
the cure and invite him to supper. After it is dark you will come
back to your house and get in at the window and hide yourself
under the bed. Now a priest will not eat without first washing his
hands. When he comes your wife will send him into the room to
wash, and when he takes hold of the wash-basin you will cry out
"tiens-bon-la." Take this wand that I will give you and wave it
over anything and when you cry '• tiens-bon-la " it will hold fast
whatever it touches."

The baker did as the fairy had told him, and his wife was very
glad to learn that he was going away ; and she packed up a large bag
of provisions and sent him off.

When he was gone she sent a note to the cure and told him that
her husband was gone away for two days and she would like to
have him come to supper. The baker walked around the city until
it was dark, and then came back and hid himself under the bed.
His wife told the servant to set the table and prepare a nice supper,
and then she went to get ready to receive the priest. But the priest
came before she was ready, and she had to make excuses to
him and say " Oh M. le Cure, I did not expect you so soon. I am
not dressed for supper." So she showed him into another room
and said she would be ready almost as soon as he had washed his
hands. There was some water that was not very clean in the wash-
basin and when the priest took hold of the basin to throw the water
out the baker, who was under the bed, cried ont "tiens-bon-la " and

AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. $$

the priest's hands stuck to the basin so that he could not let go. He
called out to the servant to come and help him, but she was busy
about the supper and did not hear him. So then he cried out as
loud as he could, "Madame, Madame ! " When the baker's wife
heard him she was dreadfully frightened and ran in, half dressed as
she was, to see what was the matter. When she found the cure*
stuck to the wash-stand, which was very large and heavy, she took
hold of him with both hands to pull him away. Then her husband
cried out from under the bed "tiens-bon-la," and the wife could not
let go of the priest. Then the baker went out and called some of
his friends and they ate the supper and drank the wine that had been
prepared for the cure, who was stuck to the wash-stand, and the
wife, who could not let go of the priest.

When morning came the baker took the wand that the fairy had
given him and told his wife and the priest that if they wanted to get
loose they must do as he told them. He made them go out into the
street and started them towards the king's palace.

As soon as they all came out into the light the baker saw that
there was a hole in his wife's petticoat, so he pulled some grass and
twisted it into a wisp and filled up the hole. Presently they came to
a cow that was feeding by the side of the road. There was not
much grass there and the cow was hungry, so when she saw the
wisp of grass she started to eat it; but the baker waved his wand
and cried "tiens-bon-la" and the cow's teeth stuck in the grass.
They all went along till they came to a field where there was a bull.
When the bull saw the cow he jumped over the fence to see where
she was going. The cow gave him a switch with her tail across his
eyes, the baker cried " tiens-bon-la,' : and the bull went along with
the rest. When the old woman who owned the cow saw her going
off in this manner she was very angry and ran out with the wooden
shovel that she was using to put bread into the oven with to beat
the bull and drive him away ; but the baker cried out " tiens-bon-la "
again and so the shovel stuck to the bull's rump and the old woman
could not let go of the shovel. The farmer to whom the bull be-
longed was quite lame, and limped along with a stick. He could not
go very fast, but he went as well as he could to see what the old
woman was beating his bull for. When he came up he took hold of
the woman's dress to pull her away, but the baker cried out again
and the lame farmer had to go with the others.

So they all went to the king's palace, — the cure with the wash-

56 AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS.

basin, the woman holding on to the cure', the cow trying to eat the
wisp of hay, the bull and the old woman with her shovel, and the
lame farmer with his stick. The baker knocked at the door, and
when the king opened it he said " O, my king, you commanded a
' tiens-bon-la ' and I have brought you one, the best that was ever
made. If your majesty will be pleased to try it 1 hope your majesty
will be content." The king took hold of the basin to take it away
from the priest, the baker cried " tiens-bon-la " again, and the king
was held as fast as the others. He tried hard to get away but the
" tiens-bon-la" was good and would not let go.

Then the king asked the baker what he should give to be let off.
After a long time the baker said he would let him go if the king
would give him forty thousand pounds a year to himself and each
of his fifteen children. The king consented, but the baker said he
must have a deed made by a notary. So they sent for the notary
and the deed was made, and the king signed it on the wash-basin.
The baker waved his wand backwards, the " tiens-bon-la " was
broken and they all went away.

To me, one of the charms of Nazaire's story-telling is
the way in which he mixes up the modern with the myth-
ical, the possible with the absurd. In this he excels any
story-teller I have ever heard. Thackery himself was
hardly more delightful in this respect, in the apparent un-
consciousness of any inconsistency.

For instance, in one of Nazaire's stories of an enchanted
princess, of which there are in French as in other lang-
uages a great many, the princess's deliverer, Petit Jean, finds
in the enchanted palace a table spread with smoking hot
viands among which were boiled pork, sausages and other
delicacies dear to the Canadians. The liquors were whis-
key and rum, the latter being the best real Old Jamacia.
In a larger and grander hall was a still superior table which
furnished not only these but pate's and black puddings,
with wines and brandies, the latter being the best French
brandy, the real article, premiere qualite, la meiUeure
importation.

AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 57

In the stable were horses and carriages in great numbers,
a " beau petit buggy '' being among the vehicles.

The giants that were besieging the castle tell Petit Jean
that the only vulnerable place in the eagle that guards it is
only "gros comme un dix cents," or no bigger than a ten
cent piece. When Petit Jean has shot off the giant's nose
he sticks it on again with a piece of s-t-i-c-k-i-n-g-p-1-a-s-
t-e-r. To hear Nazaire say s-t-i-c-k-i-n-g-p-1-a-s-t-e-r
is enough to set any company in a roar.

When Petit Jean is asked to take a drink, he replies
" Je prendrai bien un petit coup, en effet," precisely the
words that the Canadian habitant might use under similar
circumstances, and about equivalent to the " I don't care if
I do " of one to whom such an invitation is not at all un-
welcome.

The game of cards that the giants are playing is a pop-
ular Canadian game, something like " old sledge."

If one doubts whether ten cent pieces were common in
fairy times, whether giants used sticking-plaster for their
wounds, and whether real old Jamaica rum and the best
quality of French brandy were imported for the use of
deliverers of enchanted princesses, all we need say is that
this history of Petit Jean furnishes the most authentic ev-
idence possible on these points.

Conte de " Mon petit de'funt frere Louizon."

Si vous voulez que je vous conte une histoire de mon petit de'funt
frere Louizon, je vous en conterai une.

Chez mon pauvre pere nous etions sept gargons. Nous n'avions
rien de quoi manger, c'etait bien de valeur.

Un jour mon petit defunt frere Louizon se mit d nous dire que si
nous avions chacun un beau petit canot, avec lignage a proportion,
peut-etre que 1'on pendrait quelques gros poissons qui soulageraient
bien la maison.

Si dit si fait. On s'enfuit chez notre pauvre pere pour faire une
composition.

58 AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS.

Notre pauvre pere par 1'effet de sa bcnte* nous sacrifiait la moitie
de ses biens pour nous avoir chacun un beau petit canot avec lignage
a proportion, pour aller pfendre le plus beau poisson qu'il y avait
dans la mer. II les sacrifiait bien, il n'avait rien en tout.

Quand nous avions nos charmants petits canots nous allions sur
la mer. Qa allait pas vite, cependant ga allait toujours un petit brin.
On voyait venir une grosse barbue. Qa venait pas vite, cependant
ga venait toujours un peu. Qa commencait a mordre. Qa mordait
pas vite, cependant ga mordait toujours un petit brin.

Quand on la voyait un peu prise c'etait. " Halle gargon, Tire gar-
gon, gargon tire." Mes chers amis nous avions pris une belle barbue
quatorze pieds entre les deux yeux. Mesdames, de la peau mon pauvre
pere, qui etait un homme robuste, s'est fait un capot avec capuchon,
tablier, cordes de soulier, cordes de couette— on ne parle pas de ga a
pre'sent, mais dans ce temps la, c'etait la grande fagon — corde de fleau,
chope de fleau ; parce que mon pere etait un pauvre homme qui n'avait
rien de quoi battre, ga nous a bien passe 1'hiver.

Mon pauvre pere gardait les cornees des yeux pour se faire des
raquettes.

C'est alors que mon pauvre pere nous a de'fendu la peche. II a dit '•
" Mes chers petit enfants, vous ne pecherez plus. Vous pourriez
prendre quelques gros esturgeons qui vous enmenerait tous aufond.
0-u-i."

Mais quand nous avions fini de manger notre grosse barbue nous
n'avions plus rien toujours.

Un jour mon petit de'funt frere Louizon se met a nous dire que si
nous avions chacun un charmant beau petit fusil avec ammunitions
a proportion, peut etre que Ton tuerait quelques perdrix ou quelques
lievres, qui soulageraient bien la maison. Si dit si fait. On s'enfuit
chez mon pauvre pere pour faire une composition. Notre pauvre
pere par 1'effet de sa bonte' sacrifiait le reste de son bien pour nous
acheter chacun un beau petit fusil avec ammunition a proportion
pour tuer le plus beau gibier qu'il y avait dans la foret.

II le sacrifiait bien par ce qu'il n'avait rien eu de sa vie.

Quand nous avions nos charmants beaux petits fusils par malheur
nous etions trop jeunes pour les bander. Notre pauvre pere s'est
mis a les bander. II les bandait pas vite, cependant il les bandait
toujours un peu. II les bandait tous les sept, chacun pour huit
jours.

Quand nous avions nos charmants beaux petits fusils nous allions

AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS, 59

dans les forets. Imaginez vous done le carnaval que nous avons
fait. Nous avons fait rencontre d'une vieille sorciere.

Mes chers amis, elle avait quatorze pieds entre les deux epaules. Elle
nous a pris tous les sept sous les bras et nous a promenes huit jours
dans les forets. On voyait venir en beau chevreuil. II ne venait pas
vite, cependant il venait toujours un peu. Mon petit defunt frere
Louizon, si souple et si manigance de son corps, lache son coup.
Nous n'avions pas encore eu le temps de nous delivrer de notre vieille
sorciere.

Mes chers amis, nous avions tue le plus beau chevreuil, quatorze
pieds de panage. Nous prenions un gros morceau dans la tete, c,a ne
paraissait pas beaucoup dans le cote. Quand nous avions pris notre
charge on s'enfuit au bord du bois. Le bord du bois n'etait pas
loin, c'etait tout autour de la maison.

Nous avons trouve7 notre pauvre pere bien malade. Nous 1'avons
pris bras dessus bras dessous, nous 1'avons liche tout autour. C'est
la que mon petit defunt frere Louizon a attrappe une echauffaison, a
licher notre pauvre pere. II en est mort.
C'est bien triste.

In Canadian story-telling there is a universal tendency
to exaggeration that the listener soon learns to take into
account. It is not the picturesque extravagance of expres-
sion that often lends such vigorous flavor to the tales of
western frontiersmen, but simply exaggeration pure and
simple. I do not look on it as deliberate falsification, but
only as coming from the habitual inclination of a narrator
to make the most he can out of his story.

Nazaire is fond of comparing our appetites in camp to
that of the man (whose name and residence he gives) who
was in the habit of eating a six-pound loaf of bread at
noon while waiting for his dinner. He lived to be 105
years old, but is supposed to have died from having eaten
at one meal three pan-cakes of the full size of a large fiy-
ing pan and an inch thick, with an immense piece of fat
pork imbedded in each.

Reading an account of a western cyclone, I mentioned

60 AMUSEMENTS-CONTES AND RACONTEURS.

to Nazaire its effects. He immediately told me of one that
passed over the parish of St. Stanislas some years ago. It
blew all the water out of the Batiscan river and scattered
the fishes over the country for a distance of two miles. It
rolled a pine log up a steep hill, tore the skin off a sheep
and lodged it in a spruce tree some miles away. Worse
than that, it blew off, turned wrong side out and twisted
up the tire of a cart-wheel that had been left at the black-
smith's shop to be repaired. He mentioned several other
exploits that I have forgotten. When I had incautiously
questioned the accuracy of the report about the cart-wheel
he grew quite indignant, and declared that a certain cure was
still living who could vouch for the truth of the story. I
thought that if I were going to believe it at all 1 would
as soon believe it on Nazaire's word as on the cure's, so
I decided not to ask for this confirmation.

I consider Nazaire as truthful a Canadian as I ever knew,
but I notice that his recollections of the size and number
of the fish we have caught, the mountains we have climbed,
the hardships we have endured and the hair-breadth
escapes we have had, are not only more precise than mine,
but differ from them in many other respects. He can give
a thousand details that 1 have quite forgotten. When
he tells these stories I merely compliment him on his
good memory. 1 would not be so impolite as to question
his exactness.

The reader will by this time have learned that Nazaire
is much more to me and my family than an ordinary
employe. He is an excellent specimen of a medium class
of farmers and woodsmen, for, like many others, he com-
bines the two occupations.

In the early fifties, in the vigor of youth and strength,
he went to California via Panama, remaining there about
three years. His experience on the voyage and while

AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 6l

there would be, even with frills and embroidery trimmed
off, well worth printing. Had he been able to read and
write, with his intelligence, sobriety and readiness to work
at anything that was honest he might, in those times, soon
have grown rich. He worked little at gold -digging, but
took jobs and wages from others, and what was more, he
saved most of his earnings. Toward the end of three
years, although he was gaining more than he ever had
done before, he got homesick, which is not surprising,
seeing that he had left his young wife behind him. He
brought home enough to pay what he had borrowed for
his outfit and have three thousand dollars left with which
to buy a farm and stock. Having got the farm into run-
ning order he went to work in the woods, exploring in the
summer and fall, making logs in the winter and driving
them in the spring. I had occasion once to employ him,
and he has stood by me ever since. He loves the woods
as a sailor loves the sea. A common expression between
us \s"le bois est beau" (the woods are beautiful), and
this no matter what the weather may be. In summer or
winter, sunshine or storm, rain or snow, le bois est
toujours beau. Of late years, when our duties have led
us to where there were no comfortable camps near at hand,
we have taken a tent and a small sheet-iron stove and
camped wherever we liked. These, with our blankets and
the few provisions necessary, could easily be drawn on a
toboggan. Camping in a tent in mid-winter in a Cana-
dian forest does not sound like anything very attractive,
but it is one of the joys of life to Nazaire and me. When
our day's work is done, the tent set up, wood all in, and
our little stove glowing, supper eaten, pipes lighted, and
we lie down on our luxurious bed of branches, our invari-
able remark is " ll-y-en a bien qui sont plus mat que
nous autres " (there are a great many people worse off
than we are).
6

62 AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS.

It is not only to Nazaire and me that the woods are
beautiful. The following lines were written for insertion
in our Camp Register :

LE BOIS EST TOUJOURS BEAU.
( The woods are always beautiful.)

'Tis Spring, the earth in all its veins

Feels quickened currents flow,
Like tracery on storied panes,

The boughs are all a-blow;

Then come, let's go,
" Le bois est toujours beau."

Midsummer comes with scorching heat,

The deepest thickets glow,
The earth is parched beneath our feet,

The dry brooks cease to flow ;

But come, let's go,
" Le bois est toujours beau."

'Tis Autumn, ripening red and gold

In all the tree-tops show,
With rain is soaked the spongy mold,

Keen blasts the dead leaves strow ;

Yet come, let's go,
" Le bois est toujours beau."

'Tis Winter, thicker on the lakes

Their frozen fetters grow,
The myriad life that summer wakes

Is buried deep in snow ;

Still come, let's go,
" Le bois est toujours beau."

J. B. GREENOUGH.

One especially tempestuous afternoon we greatly sur-
prised an old habitant by declining the shelter of his house
and setting up our tent a mile away in the woods. He
came to see us the next morning, half expecting to find us

AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 63

dead, instead of which we were just eating an unusually
good breakfast, and were as happy as lords.

Much as 1 like Nazaire myself, my family outdoes me.
On the rare occasions when he comes to our house my
two girls, who were little things in short dresses when
he first began to tie their snowshoes, bait their hooks, take
oflf their fish, and generally make their paths smooth
when they went on little excursions to our camp with me,
still rush to the door to be the first to greet him, and gener-
ally make much of him till he beams all over with delight.
My wife, who, thanks to the delicious air of Canada, is no
longer an invalid, seeing him coming, cries out, " Why,
here is dear old Nazaire ! " and is not far behind the girls.
She has of late been able to go sometimes to the camp,
where he is always her constant and devoted attendant.

Nazaire's friend and crony, Damase (twelve or fifteen
years younger than he), is another good typical specimen,
although much more woodsman and hunter than farmer.
It is pleasant to see the two together. Nazaire uses the
familiar " tu " in their conversation, but Damase always
says " vous " to Nazaire.

1 think there must be a strain of Indian blood.in Damase,
perhaps very remote, but still there. His cheek bones sug-
gest it and there are other indications as well. Distances
on foot are nothing to him, or if he counts them at all it
is by time and not by miles. He can omit several meals
without inconvenience, making up for them afterwards.
He is not like Nazaire, always wishing to be occupied,
but is quite willing to wait or sleep till the time comes
when something is to be done. He knows the habitat and
habits of every beast in the forest and every fish in the
streams. Besides being a most expert woodsman, almost
always employed at good wages, he usually manages to
add a hundred dollars or so to his winter's earnings by

64 AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS.

hunting and trapping. He is ordinarily as taciturn as Na-
zaire is loquacious. If any ugly bit of work is to be done
Nazaire is careful and prudent, taking all necessary pre-
cautions against accidents, but Damase goes at it headlong,
trusting to his bravery and his unequaled nerve to carry
him through. He is a splendid canoeman in some re-
spects, but somewhat reckless, often shooting rapids that
greater experts than he would shrink from. Consequently
he meets many mishaps, though rarely serious ones.

But it is on the " drive " that he is greatest, and many
are the stories told of his daring exploits. Unlike most
Canadians, he leaves the telling of his adventures to
others, rarely speaking of them himself.

On the very edge of the perpendicular cliff that I have
already mentioned, which is there about three hundred feet
high, and where, some fifty years ago, fire consumed almost
everything near it, stands a lofty dead pine tree without a
branch until near the very top. The men tell how Damase
once climbed to the highest branch where he could look
far up the lake and see if his logs were coming all right.
Very few men would wish to attempt such a feat.

Part ID

THE CHURCH

THE CHURCH

THE parish church is naturally the centre of parish
activities. Most of the industries of the people group them-
selves closely around it. It is built by a tax levied on the
real property of all Roman Catholics in the parish, collect-
able by the usual processes of law. Those who wish a
church to be built petition the Bishop, and the decision
whether one shall be built rests entirely with him.

Usually the grandeur and costliness of a church bear
reasonable relation to the wealth of the parish. Occa-
sionally, however, the necessary tax becomes so heavy as
seriously to affect the value of all real estate subject to
it and to lay heavy burdens on the people.

The revenues of the Church are administered by the
" Fabrique," which consists of the church wardens, of
whom three have direction of ordinary affairs. The senior
in service of these three retires at the end of a year, the next
in service taking his place, and one new warden is chosen
annually. The retiring officer does not cease to be a warden
but is still a part of the " Fabrique," and in important mat-
ters has a voice and a vote. The cure is ex-officio presi-
dent of the " Fabrique." In some parishes only the active
and past wardens are entitled to vote in the election of a
new warden, but in most parishes all householding parish-
ioners may vote. Some parishes have no wardens, all
affairs being conducted by the Bishop, either directly or
through the cure. Similar powers of administration are
also sometimes exercised by a religious community.

The revenues of priests are derived from a tithe of the
grain raised, the payment by those who raise no grain of

THE CHURCH.

a small sum, say 50c per annum, by or for each commu-
nicant (including children after they have made their first
communion), masses said for the dead or in behalf of the
living, marriage fees, funeral services, and the like.

For these services a regular scale of prices is fixed. The
usual fee for a simple marriage is one dollar. Such mar-
riages also ordinarily take place in the morning, for the
convenience of the priest and his daily mass.

Marriages between relatives are a source of considerable
revenue to the Church, although not to the parish priest.

For these, special dis-
pensations must be had,
the cost depending on
the degree of consan-
guinity and perhaps in
part on the standing and
wealth of the parties.
Entirely unsuspected
relationships suddenly
discovered on the eve
of a marriage ceremony
have been known to
cause considerable em-
barrassment and hur-
ried visits to the Bishop.
In a case where rela-
tionship was discovered
after the marriage the
priest demanded that a dispensation should be obtained
and that the parties should be married over again. The
man refused, saying that if the first ceremony was not
valid the woman might go back to her father. Of course
he was soon compelled to submit. In another case, where
a widower had been several years married to a widow, it

THE CHURCH.

69

was discovered that the man had been godfather to one of
the children by the first marriage. It was claimed that this
fact invalidated the subsequent marriage, and that a dis-
pensation must be obtained and a new marriage performed.
(This contention, I believe, was not maintained.)

The numerous way -side crosses always interest travelers
from countries where such things are not common. They

are found on all country roads, and are more or less elab-
orate, according to the devotion and wealth of those who
erect them, — perhaps a single person, a family, or a num-
ber of neighbors. A full-sized figure carved in wood of
Christ on the cross is not rare. This is called a " calvaire "
and is usually neatly enclosed by a fence and roofed over.
Occasionally more pretentious emblems may be met, as of
Christ and the two thieves. Permission to photograph one
of these, asked from the family near whose house it stood,

70 THE CHURCH.

was not only given readily, but the women of the family
volunteered to go out and pose themselves before it, to suit
the photographer. The utter nonchalance of the offer and
absence of any devotional sentiment about it was striking.

Funerals add much to the revenue of the church, and
are costly on a rapidly rising scale in proportion to the
amount of ceremonial. The fees for a very simple ser-
vice may be from ten to twenty dollars, and for a more
elaborate one may easily be carried up to hundreds. These
expensive ceremonies, however, are rare in country par-
ishes, although common in cities. The habitant's funeral
is usually of an humble character, and takes place at an early
hour in the morning, for the same reason as marriages.

Apart from tithes and those sources of income which
belong to the cure personally, the revenues are mainly
devoted to the embellishment of the church and similar
objects when once the church is built and paid for.

The priests are not all bound to poverty. The cure
of a prosperous parish may become a very wealthy man.
He will probably leave part of his property for religious
objects, but his relatives will expect to share in it.

It is claimed that the requirements of the Church are
much more onerous and its regulations more stringent than
formerly. It has recently been ordered that women shall
not sing in church choirs. One cure tries to prevent
young people of different sexes from walking to church
together. Another is especially severe on dancing, but it
has been found when they get out of his sight his parish-
ioners are disposed to dance quite as long as a fiddler will
play. Dancing is permitted at weddings and on ceremo-
nious occasions, but is looked upon with strong disfavor
by most of the clergy. In other respects the demands of
the Church are said to have become heavier. There is
much difference between priests in all such matters as these,

THE CHURCH. 71

some being extremely rigid while others are moderately
liberal. The general tendency appears to me to be towards
greater strictness, but I can only judge from what I hear
spoken of among the people.

Mixed marriages are strongly objected to, and are not
considered as sacraments, like those between Roman Cath-
olics. They are legal marriages, but the Church " neither
blesses nor curses them " ; they are allowed to be treated
as civil contracts only. Formerly children of such mar-
riages were allowed to be brought up in the faith of the
parent of the same sex ; now it must be agreed that all
the children shall be brought up Roman Catholics.

Pope Pius IX was once reported to have said that the
French Canadians were the most submissive in matters of
faith of any catholics in the world ; but that on some other
matters they brought more questions before him than oth-
ers. These disputes probably related to jurisdiction and
the like between the higher clergy, or to quarrels of a more
or less secular character between priests and people.

No fee is paid to the priest for christenings, but if the
bell is rung the beadle is paid for ringing it. The ringing
of the bell is an act of worship, and is seldom omitted.

Some of the names given to boys seem strange to us,
and we often wonder where the parents found them, for
these uncommon names are not usually hereditary in fam-
ilies. Often such a name is that of the saint whose festival
occurs on the birthday of the child, as shown on the calen-
dar for the year, issued on a large sheet under the super-
vision of the ecclesiastical authorities. We have near us
such names as Adjutor, Clovis, Gaudiase, Hermenegilde,
Hermidas, etc. The names of girls are ordinarily less
striking than those of boys, although some of them are
rather peculiar.

The clergy tell me that the common idea that every boy

72 tHE CHURCH.

is christened " Joseph " and every girl " Marie " is not
correct. It is enough if the child has the name of some
patron saint. As these two are the most venerated names
they are the ones most frequently given. But the people,
my friends the habitants, still insist that they are right,
and that even if the name does not always go into the
priest's register (as it certainly does not), the child has it
all the same. The only way in which 1 can reconcile these
different ideas is on the principle that, as St. Joseph is the
religious patron of all French Canadians, the boy is as-
sumed to have his name whether it is specially mentioned
or not. And similarly every girl has the name " Marie."

In 1624 St. Joseph was solemnly chosen and installed,
with all the ceremony possible at that time, religious pat-
ron of all Canada. The choice of St. Jean Baptiste as the
national patron was only made in the present century.

The founders of the Ursuline Communitie consecrated
themselves and all the results of their labors in Canada to
the Holy Family before their departure from France.

All churches are dedicated to some saint : to St. Anne,
to St. Joseph, and many to the Virgin in some one of her
manifestations, as " of the Incarnation," " of the Assump-
tion," " of Sorrows," etc.

The word dit (called) so often seen in connection with
proper names, as Theophile Langlois dit Bernard, may
happen to be used for a variety of reasons. When a
family name follows the dit it is often because of a sec-
ond marriage of the mother when her child is known and
brought up under the name of its stepfather. When a
baptismal name follows dit it is merely to distinguish one
person from another. In this case Theophile Langlois
was always called by us Theophile Bernard, because his
father's Christian name was Bernard. In notarial docu-
ments the name would most probably be written " Theo-

THE CHURCH. 73

phile Langlois dit Bernard," for his more certain identifi-
cation. Notaries are habitually very careful in respect to
identifying their clients. We have also here Isidore Noel
and Aime' Noel, brothers, sons of Noel Frenette, there
being several families of Frenettes in this and neighboring
parishes. If, in conversation, a person should speak of
Isidore Frenette he might be asked what Isidore was re-
ferred to and might reply " Isidore a Noel," although in
familiar speech the a would be omitted. In some places
the method of identification is carried still further. Thus
we have Felix a (son of) Samuel a (son of) Joseph-Ignace
Gignac (the a between Joseph and Ignase omitted for
euphony), and Hilare a Joseph a Henri a Pierre Vachon.

Sobriquets are very common, not altogether as nick-
names, although they often mark some personal peculiar-
ity, but merely to distinguish one person from another.

The priests that I have met I have found generally to
be educated and cultivated men, some of course much
more so than others. I judge that the extremes of culture
and education would be hardly as great as among the
clergy of New England. The facilities for education for
the priesthood are good, and easily and cheaply obtained.
A certain amount of education is absolutely requisite, and
a man cannot preach and exhort merely because he feels
moved to do so, as he might in some sects in the States.
He must be duly authorized. But neither on the other
hand can the priest attain to the vigor and independence

NOTE.— In many families of some distinction ancestral names are
carefully preserved here as elsewhere, and the whole name becomes
a long one, as in the case of an old acquaintance of mine (Peace to his
ashes !) whose name was Charles Joseph Louis Alexander Fleury
de la Gorgendiere. In the course of time, however, the capital G
had been dropped and the name as used became Lagorgendiere.
The family name of Fleury was retained. Similarly La Cheviotiere
became Lacheviotiere, d'Eschambault, Deschambault, etc.

74 THE CHURCH.

of thought of the less fettered minister ; nor indeed are
these qualities called for in the ordinary parish priest.
When a course of preaching is desired the services of a
priest of an order that makes preaching its specialty are
secured.

The priests come from and are of the people. Any
young man may aspire to the priesthood ; and if he aspires
to it he is encouraged and aided to reach it. His parents
will be proud to have one of their sons become a priest,
and if poor will often deprive themselves of luxuries and
even of comforts in order to help him. He is assured of
position and support, and credit is likewise reflected on
themselves, for unless the young man shows a clean family
record he will not be admitted to the order. A whole parish
sometimes takes an interest in having one of its children
received. I remember once when passing through a vil-
lage I found it decorated with flags and evergreens. Inquir-
ing the reason I was informed that it was because a young
man of the parish was that day to be made a priest.

All the cure's are removable at the discretion of their
Bishop, except one in Montreal and one in Quebec. This
power of removal was one for which Laval, the first
Bishop, fought long and hard.

The Canadian is strongly attached to his religion and
gives attention to its observances whether he abides by its
moral precepts or not. In the elegance of his parish
church the habitant takes great pride. The feast days of
the Church are the dates from which he reckons. He
may not be able to tell you the month in which anything
occurred, but he will say whether it happened before or
after Les Fetes (Christmas holidays), Pdques (Easter), La
Toussaint (All Saints' Day), or other festival. There
are not very many of these festivals whose observance is
positively obligatory, but there are many others that are

THE CHURCH.

75

more or less strictly observed, sometimes much to the
annoyance of the people who pay no attention to them
and find their business or pleasures interrupted by them.

One may sometimes find himself in a parish where a
" retraite " (retreat) is in order. This lasts nine days, dur-
ing which nearly the whole time is given up to religious
exercises. Retreats are, however, rare. I remember only
two in our parish in the last nine years. The devotions
known as"/£s qitarante keures" (the forty houis) are

f. Sv. 1V

v i

held annually. Very little except strictly necessary work is
done during this time, and attendance at church is general.
In this Province there are now no general religious cere-
monies held out of doors except that of Corpus Christi,
which is celebrated here as in all Roman Catholic countries
by open air processions when the weather will permit.
In the cities the processions are larger and more gorgeous,
but they lack the simple picturesqueness of those of
country parishes. In these the route of the procession is
thickly bordered with " ballses," on which are hung

76

THE CHURCH.

showy decorations of all descriptions,— strips of cloth of
various colors, quilts, carpeting, curtains, table-cloths and
the like. Arches of evergreens are built and ornamented
with pictures, mottoes, and flags. At intervals small pri-
vate altars, called "Reposoirs" are erected under structures
of evergreens and decorated with flowers (usually of paper),
crosses and religious emblems, pictures, etc. The road is
swept clean and sprinkled with fresh sawdust. In the vicin-
ity of "Reposoirs " at least, lines of carpeting are laid down.
Issuing from the church the procession takes up its
route, the priest in his most showy robes bearing the Host,
walking under a gorgeous canopy carried by four men,
preceded by the choir in their surplices singing canticles,
others bearing banners, and by two boys swinging censers
of burning incense ; then follow the little girls and the
maidens, dressed in white, and the boys in dark clothes,
all carrying flags. The women on one side of the road
and the men on the other, in double files, complete the
procession. Arrived before one of these " Reposoirs," all
devoutly kneel while the priest recites the appropriate
prayers. The procession re-forms and proceeds to another
altar, returning to the church in the same order. The

whole ceremony lasts
from half to three-quar-
ters of an hour. As soon
as the procession's back
is turned the women
who have remained at
home make haste to
remove their portable
property from the altars
and road, and in five
minutes there is little be-
sides the " battles " and

THE CHURCH. 77

the unusually clean street to tell of the ceremonies per-
formed.

The condition of the priest has changed very much
more than his character. With the exception of a few
missionaries the priests are not now obliged to make long
and arduous journeys, to endure the extrernest hardships
and even to suffer martyrdom for their Church, as in
former times. We have no reason to think, however,
that the priest of today would shrink from these if they
were necessary any more than did his predecessors. The
fervor of Jesuit zeal has perhaps in a measure subsided,
but the early Fathers of that order impressed their prin-
ciples so deeply and strongly on the Canadian Church
and clergy that their influence is felt to this day.
Their power and activity were always very great at Quebec.
Quarrels between them and the Governors of the colony
were almost incessant, each accusing the other of trickery
and double dealing. Doubtless both were correct. Some
of the governors and other officials were far from being
models of punctilious honesty, while the ambition of the
Jesuits was as unbounded as their zeal and devotion, and
their scruples as to methods were few. Their disputes
with the Sulpitians of Montreal were scarcely less bitter.
The Sulpitians, however, were less inclined to meddle
with public affairs, confining themselves more to their
purely religious functions and the developement of their
estates.

The parish priest of today holds his parishioners to as
strict an observance of their obligations to the Church and
is no more tolerant of heresy among them than was the
priest of the 17th century. He cannot say now, as was
said then, " There are no heretics in New France;" for
some religious toleration had become necessary before the
Conquest and full toleration was required after it ; but in
7

78 THE CHURCH.

his own flock he combats heresy as strongly as did Laval
or St. Valier. Catholics and protestants now live as a
rule in entire harmony, a harmony creditable to both
parties. There are very few conversions on the one side
or the other, and little attempt at proselytizing.

The minimum salary for a priest sent to a parish or
mission permanently is $400, although some will volun-
teer to take a place where that amount cannot be raised.
I heard of one a few days ago who had gone to try a
place where not even $200 could be promised. By hav-
ing his sister to keep his house and his brother to cultivate
some land, both without pay, he hoped to exist.

The priest who was formerly paid by a tithe (1-26) on
the grain raised in his parish now sometimes finds it hard
to get anything else in its place. In a neighboring parish
a few Sundays ago the cure gave his parishioners a tre-
mendous scolding for raising other articles instead of
grain on purpose to save his tithes. The habitants laughed
at him. They have the greatest regard for their cure in
his spiritual capacity, but when it comes to paying out
cash or its equivalent they would as soon get the better of
him as of anyone else. I remember when, in the time of
the Reciprocity Treaty with the States, there were buyers
of oats for shipment, the first man the purchasers went to
was the miller, whose tolls were sure to be good, and the
last one was the priest, who would have the poorest grain
of anyone.

I know of another priest any one of whose people would
be most delighted if he could get the better of him in a
horse trade. I have been given to understand that this is
a hard thing to do.

The priest of our parish has preached and talked faith-
fully on the importance of cleanliness, drainage and disin-
fection as precautions against diphtheria, but the people

THE CHURCH. 79

pay not the slightest attention to anything of that sort
that he says. Consequently this dreaded disease creates
fearful ravages among the children every year.

This is rather a common, though not by any means the
universal, feeling towards the priest, — a thorough reliance
on his dicta in spiritual matters combined with some awe
of him, " on general principles " as we might say, and an
entire disregard of his views on other points.

A religious exercise that includes what some consider a
pleasure excursion is a pilgrimage to the Shrine o£ Ste.
Anne de Beaupre or " La bonne Ste. Anne" some 20
miles below Quebec on the St. Lawrence. For many years
this shrine has been celebrated for miraculous virtues.
During the summer season parties from most of the
parishes within fairly easy reach, and latterly even from
considerable distances, are made up to visit it. Within a
few years a railroad has been built from Quebec, and the
journey from that point may be quickly and easily made.
But a more favored way is to go by a special trip of one
of the small steamers that make more or less regular voy-
ages from the river points to Quebec for the market days.
The business part of the excursion is managed much like
that of Sunday school picnics, the priest of the parish and
one or two others usually making preliminary arrange-
ments of dates, rates of fare and the like. Sometimes
one man may charter a steamer and make a little specu-
lation out of the business. Fares are low and the people
mostly carry their own provisions so that the trip is not
an expensive one and the boats are almost always uncom-
fortably crowded.

Take a trip from an up-river parish 50 or 60 miles
from Quebec. The boat must start at an early hour, say
5, 6 or 7 o'clock — depending on the tide — and the people
at a distance must leave their homes often at 2 or 3 o'clock

80 THE CHURCH.

in the morning. They reach Ste. Anne perhaps about
noon, spend an hour or two in religious exercises and in
looking about, and then start for home, which they will
not reach till very late at night. They have had a hard
day and admit being fatigued, but not one will allow the
trip to have been unprofitable, for prayers said at the
shrine are supposed to have very great efficacy. One
woman perhaps expressed the general feeling. She
had come from some point in the States and was disposed
to comment on the hardships and expenses of her journey.
" Why," said she, " for the same money we might have
gone to Saratoga and enjoyed ourselves. But then (re-
signedly) only think how much good it has done to our
souls."

The Church of Ste. Anne is very fine and the decora-
tion of a high order. Most of it was done by Italian
artists, brought over for the purpose. American tourists
to Quebec who have the time to spare now try to include
a visit to Ste. Anne with their other sight-seeing. The
church is claimed to possess a genuine relic of Ste. Anne,
and some miracles are reported to be performed there
every year.

The priests receive confessions on board the steamers
en route. Mass is said shortly after arrival, at which
those who have confessed receive communion, and all are
then at liberty to occupy themselves as they like until
called to start for home.

The people seem to have considerable confidence in
possible benefits to be derived from a pilgrimage and there
is always a number of invalids in a party. They certainly
ought to be benefited in some way to offset the discom-
forts and sufferings of the journey.

Some priests, however, do not look with much favor on
these pilgrimages and quietly abstain from helping to ar-

THE CHURCH. 81

range them, although not opposing them. But that is usu-
ally sufficient. If the priest is cold or lukewarm in the
matter the people are -not likely to be very enthusiastic.
We need not say they lack faith in the virtues of the shrine ;
they may think that the evil results of a pilgrimage over-
balance the good. Order is generally well kept, but it
would not be strange if among so many people there
should be occasional excesses and irregularities.

part \D1f
MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES

MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES

MARRIAGES are contracted among the poorer Canadians
in the same reckless, improvident manner as among the
very poor all over the world. There is not much calcu-
lation as to how the future family is to be supported. If
a man can get enough to eat for himself he seems, to think
it will suffice for two ; and the women appear to be of
the same opinion. A man was earning four dollars and a
half a week on which to support a wife and three young
children. His son by a former marriage was earning only
five dollars a month when he took it into his head to
marry and go to live with his father. The house, of one
room twenty feet square, was, with the aid of some calico
curtains, made the home of both families. The two
women cooked their separate meals on the same stove,
each man providing his portion of the wood.

Another couple was to be married as soon as the man
could get money enough ahead to pay the priest's fee.
He got near enough to it one week to induce him to set
the wedding for the next Monday morning, but he cele-
brated the ceremony in advance rather too much and
Saturday night found him short of the requisite dollar.
Sunday afternoon, however, he went fishing and caught
and sold " tommy cods " enough to realize the amount
that was lacking.

I have heard another man say that when he had paid
the priest's fee for marrying him he had just fifty cents
left. The woman had not even that. I imagine their

86 MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES.

balance in hand has oftener been less than fifty cents than
over it ever since.

A rather amusing instance of proclivity to matrimony
came under our notice. A very poor woman, middle
aged, (and I think the strongest woman I ever saw,) was
doing scrubbing for us when she met with a trifling acci-
dent which kept her away for a few days. When we
asked when she could come back to work we were in-
formed that she was going to get married and would not
work any more for anybody. As she had been a widow
less than two months we were a little surprised, and in-
quired into the particulars. It appears that while she was
in attendance on her late aged and infirm husband the
people in whose house the couple occupied a room gave
lodging one night to a one-armed beggar. He was so
much pleased with the manner in which she took care of
the old man that he expressed ^ his intention of coming
back after her husband was dead and marrying her. In
the course of time the old man died and the beggar came
for her. When asked why such a strong, healthy woman
as she was should want to marry a crippled beggar she
replied that she was tired of work and wanted to live at
ease. That the beggar was very well off, had a thousand
dollars in the bank, his board cost him nothing and he
could beg enough for both of them. Besides, she was
nothing but a beggar herself, for she could not get work
enough to support herself, her child and her dogs. As he
was just her age, forty-four, she thought it was a good
match, and no matter what other people might say she
was going to marry him and not do any more work.

The course of true love does not always run smooth
here more than elsewhere. A man who had been some
years a widower engaged to marry a maiden of some
forty-live or fifty years. It seems that she was so much

MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 87

pleased at the prospect that she went about telling every-
one of it, which for some reason or other displeased him
and he broke off the engagement. They settled matters
up again after a while and were being " called " in the
church ; but the priest made a mistake and " called " her
to the wrong man. It happened to be a dead man so one
would think no great harm had been done, as indeed there
had not, for the mistake was promptly rectified. How-
ever, the bridegroom was so vexed with the priest that he
went off and got drunk, at which she was angry and
broke the engagement in her turn. Shortly afterward
her brother was taken ill and died, and this man went to
the funeral, which was in another parish. There her
father was taken ill, carried home and placed on the bed
from which his son had just been removed. The man
gave so much assistance, showed so much sympathy, and
altogether behaved so well, that she forgave his delin-
quencies. They came back to their own parish Saturday
night, and at six o'clock Monday morning went to the
church by themselves and were married. It looks as if
neither party was inclined to risk more ruptures of the
engagement.

There is a well-authenticated story of a man of wealth
who was engaged to be married to a woman of something
near his own age, and who bought and elegantly furnished
a house for their occupancy. For some reason unknown
they decided not to marry, but they went together to the
house, packed up with the greatest care all the beautiful
furniture and there left it. She remained in her own
rooms and he took small rooms elsewhere. Every after-
noon for thirty years and more he called at a certain hour
and they walked out together ; and once a week she
dressed in state and dined with him at his rooms or
he with her at hers, she always inviting some young girl

88 MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES.

to act as chaperon. One day he was taken sick and did
not call. She, being herself ill with a slight cold, wrote
him a note. He died the next day with her note in his
hand. Less than a month later she died, the doctors said
from grief, as she had no disease. The great house with
all its furnishings remained unoccupied and unused until
within a very few years.

It is told of a hunter and woodsman, who still lives in
a neighboring parish, that he made arrangements to be
married on Monday (which seems to be a favorite time)
and on Saturday went to Quebec to purchase his outfit.
He met so many friends whom it was necessary to treat,
and who treated him so much, that he found himself, or
rather was found, late in the afternoon very drunk and
without a cent. A neighbor took him home in a sleigh ;
but the neighbor had a bottle, and Jean had to be put to
bed more drunk than ever. He went to sleep and did not
wake up enough to know what he was about until Sunday
afternoon. Then he realized that something must be
done or his marriage would be a failure for that time
sure. He took his gun and some traps and went away to
the woods. Before daylight he returned with two otter
skins on his back, routed up a village shopkeeper and
sold the skins, went to the church and was on hand to be
married according to the programme. I believe Jean has
lived on very much the same happy-go-lucky plan ever
since.

Not all weddings here in Canada are so simple and un-
ceremonious as those I have mentioned. Here, as else-
where, some people want a good deal of parade and others
either do not care for or cannot afford it.

Years ago weddings among well-to-do habitants were,
and occasionally are now, made scenes of festivity last-
ing several days. Practically open house was kept,

MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 89

sometimes for nearly a week. The amount of eating,
drinking and dancing done was prodigious. Drinking,
in former days, was more general and heavier than now
and fights sometimes occurred, but rarely resulted seri-
ously. The Canadians do not like stand-up pugilistic
encounters like the English, or rows with shillaly like
the Irish. Two or three good solid blows are enough to
settle almost any of their little difficulties.

My family was once unintentionally the means of turn-
ing what was intended to be a very quiet wedding into a
genuine fSte. The bride was an amiable and estimable
girl, sister to our man of-all-work, who has been with us
for several years, and to our housemaid, to whom my wife
and daughters are much attached. The whole family is
greatly respected in the village. To please our little maid
and the rest, my people added some small articles to the
bride's trosseau and then prompted me to offer something
more. They decided that nothing would give everybody
so much pleasure as a chance to dance, and proposed that
I should provide fiddlers and that they should give an
afternoon tea. We secured a vacant house near by and
decorated the rooms with red and white cotton cloth.
The decorations were extremely simple but turned out to
be effective and were greatly admired.

The marriage was to be on Tuesday, and the two mu-
sicians, who came from another parish, arrived on Monday
afternoon. After refreshments they tuned up and dancing
began, at the house of the bride's father. It was kept up
until eleven p. M., stopping only for supper. At seven
the next morning the wedding took place, and immedi-
ately after breakfast dancing was resumed, which contin-
ued till noon.

We had not ourselves intended to take any part in the
festivities, but found that the bride would feel really grat-

90 MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES.

ified if we would attend the dinner, which took the place
of the usual wedding breakfast. We feared we should be
an embarrassment, but so much was said and the invita-
tion so cordial, that we consented and finally decided that
we would go in for all the fun there was going. We were
given the most distinguished places at the table, next the
dame d'honneur, who was no other than our little house-
maid. 1 must say that she was the life of the occasion
and carried affairs along with a spirit and vigor that we
had often suspected was in her but had never seen before.
At our house she is extremely quiet and demure, but at
the wedding she evidently let herself loose and things had
to go the way she wanted them.

The dinner was set in the kitchen of the farm-house and
was not very different from the usual farmer's fare, but
was good and abundant. There were no liquors — the
whole family being temperance people — but we drank the
bride's health in tea so strong it almost made my head
swim. She was pleased and everybody was merry.

When the first party had finished their repast — for the
tables had to be set twice more before all were satisfied —
the doctor of the village got up and made a neat speech
that must have cost him some trouble to prepare.
There was no regular reply for the bridegroom evidently
had no taste for speech-making and no one else thought
it his duty, so we contented ourselves with vigorously
applauding the doctor's sentiments.

By two o'clock all had been fed, and adjournment was
made to the rooms we had prepared. After a few min-
utes spent in commenting on our decorations all hands
speedily settled to business. My wife and daughters
hunted me up and insisted that it was my duty to open
the dance with the bride, which I did. And more than
that, I kept on till 1 think I must have danced with nearly

MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 91

all her family. 1 had n't danced so much in twenty years.
My family said they had no idea there was so much dance
left in me. It was lots of fun.

The dances were quadrilles and cotillions, with an occa-
sional jig, round dances being forbidden. Men did not
take their partners round the waist, but by their elbows.
I made two or three mistakes about that, but was gently
reminded that the Canadian fashion was considered more
proper. Those cotillions made me perspire. There was
one girl of fifteen or sixteen years who weighed I think
about as much as I did who always seemed to want to
turn round twice to my once. One dance with her was
enough. I think there was not a dry thread on me when
it was over.

The two fiddlers did not play together, but when one
stopped the other commenced, and the intervals between
dances were very short. It was a case of " one down
another come on " all the afternoon. The dancing was
lively and vigorous but not rude nor rough in the least.
There was not much formality, but perfect propriety.
Only one man appeared to have taken privately a little
more drink than was good for him, and he was only silly.
He was induced to go home for something and did not
get back.

A little incident at one time promised to disturb the
harmony, but it was soon over and few persons knew any-
thing about it. ' A rejected suitor appeared outside the
house in an excited condition vowing vengeance on the
bride and threatening bodily injury to the groom. Two
of the lady's brothers went out and administered some
very forcible language to the young man and one of them
emphasized his remarks with a good claque on the side of
the head, whereon he got into his cariole and drove away.

Dancing and refreshments continued until six without

92 MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES.

interruption. I was smoking a quiet pipe in one of the
rooms when somebody called me out. I found the guests
assembled in the dancing-room, and the schoolmaster
stepped out and read a very neatly written address which
should have been made to my wife and daughters instead
of me, for I had had very little to do with the affair ex-
cept to pay the fiddlers. I was a good deal nonplussed at
first, but managed to say that we were very much obliged
to the people for their compliments and glad they had en-
joyed themselves. I got out of that function in short
metre, and on the whole, very easily.

Then everybody went to supper and afterwards danced
till five the next morning. I dropped into the house for
a few minutes in the evening and found everything in full
blast. Two rooms were made available, with a fiddler in
each. While a set was dancing in one room another was
being made up in the other one, so that there were abso-
lutely no waits at all. The non- dancers played cards and
s£ng in another room without disturbing the others in
the least. I went home and to bed, but when I went back
to the village about ten o'clock next morning I heard the
fiddles going again and they did not stop till dinner time.

At two o'clock the young couple started for their new
home, 30 miles away, escorted by several sleigh-loads of
relatives and friends. Arrived there, they found fresh
fiddlers on hand and fifty or more neighbors assembled, so
there was almost continuous dancing again till noon of the
following day. Our little maid, who was of the escorting
party, came back at aboijt sunset with feet so swollen that
she could get no shoes on and was obliged to shuffle round
the house for three or four days in a pair of old over-
stockings. When she told her story I wished I had a copy
of the well-known picture entitled " Enfin Seuls " to send
to the nouveaux maries. I am sure they would have
appreciated it,

MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 93

We were quite satisfied with our success. At small ex-
pense to ourselves we had given pleasure to a good many
people and had assisted at a genuinely Canadian wedding.
It was frankly and honestly simple, dignified and decorous
and had been enjoyed with true Canadian lighthearted-
ness.

It added greatly to our pleasure that our faithful Na-
zaire was present and was made much of, to his mingled
delight and embarrassment. He had come to see me on
business and to resign on the twentieth anniversary of his
engagement in our service and on account of advancing
years, the position he had so long and honorably filled.
As soon as it was known that he was in the village the
bride's family insisted that he should be of the wedding
party. He was known to most of the people and it did
not take long for the others to make his acquaintance.
Whenever I caught sight of him he was surrounded by a
group of attentive listeners. Added years have subtracted
nothing from his loquacity, and 1 suspect our adventures
and experience together in the woods formed the basis of
much of his conversation. I am glad I was not called on
to vouch for his stories, for I am rather afraid his memory
has grown astigmatic of late. He was greatly distressed
because he was not dressed for a wedding. I assured him
that it was not of the slightest consequence and that he
looked as well as any of us. Privately I was glad of it,
for to me his honest, rugged features show better out of
homespun than out of store clothes. But no one, not
even the bride nor my daughters, could induce him to
dance. I was awfully sorry, for I think he would have
shown us some steps that are not taught by dancing
masters now-a-days.
Good old Nazaire ! He went home by the midnight

8

94

MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES.

train, assuring me that he should never forget or regret
his visit.

The habitant is extremely fond of everything that has the
air of a fete, and one other little lark which we have had
with our habitant neighbors is as characteristic as the wed-
ding just described. It was no longer ago than last summer.
Our neighbors could never understand why we liked
so much to go to Lake Clair. They thought there was
nothing we could do there but catch and eat fish. We
wanted to give some of them an entertainment, so we in-
vited twenty-five or thirty to make a picnic at the lake,
stopping there over one night. A goodly number came,
fathers and mothers, young men and maidens. I think a
merrier lot of people was never brought together. They
were like a lot of children let out of school. They ran,
raced, sang, shouted and played tricks on each other with
as much glee and zest as if they had never had a care in

MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 95

their lives; and all without a particle of objectionable
rudeness.

Their greatest delight, however, was in the boating.
All our water craft of course were at their service, and as
they were quite safe I had no anxiety except to be a little
careful as to who went out in the smaller canoes. As it
was there was not the slightest mishap except that the
only expert canoeman in the party managed to tip him-
self over without the least excuse. One more laugh, a
little more uproarious than the others, was the only notice-
able result.

In the evening we had a procession of boats and canoes
with torches, and afterwards fireworks, and tableaux with
colored lights, which were very pretty, being arranged so
as to appear as if on the water. The weather was perfect
and the lake like a mirror. There was one tableau that
was quite striking. After a brilliant illumination and
while eyes were still a little dazzled a figure in white ap-
peared, gliding gently over the water without any visible
means of propulsion. She was poised high on the bow
of a canoe large enough to be steady, and with red,
white or blue lights burning behind her she appeared in
a kind of halo, and the canoe, paddled noiselessly along,
was not seen. Some exclaimed " Le d-i-a-b-l-e-est de-
dans!" (the devil is in it) with the peculiar intonation
often given to the expression. It was only an indication
of wonder and delight and not of opinion that his satanic
majesty had anything to do with it.

When all these things were done and a lot of songs had
been sung I thought it was time for folks to go to bed,
but my friends apparently had no such views. When the
assembly broke up they nearly all went off by twos,
threes and fours in boats and canoes and in a few minutes

96 MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES.

were scattered all over the lake, some singing and some
only chaffing the rest.

There was one quite old man, much bent up with rheu-
matism and so generally feeble that I wondered how he
ever reached the lake, whom I thought ought to be looked
after. 1 told one of his sons that he ought to get the old
man in and put him nicely to bed. He went to look for
him and found he had gone away to the other side of the
lake with a boat-load of young folks, and apparently had
no thought of going to bed at all.

We had provided comfortable beds for all the women
and set up two tents with plenty of branches for the men
whom we could not accommodate otherwise ; but a few
of the young women were determined that they would
sleep in a tent for once in their lives now that they had
the chance, so they took possession of one, got their fathers
to occupy the other to chaperon them, and told the other
men they might go and sleep wherever they could. I
heard it intimated next morning that not much sleeping
was done in either tent that night ; but as everybody was
happy and jolly over it that did not much matter.

Everybody was out bright and early and after a fore-
noon spent in boating and visiting points of interest,
started for home, a five- hours' drive, in great spirits. For
a week afterwards there was not much talked about in
our village but the Canadian picnic at Lake Clair.

The fun of it all for us was in seeing the pleasure the
people took in everything they saw or did and their hearty
abandon. It is great sport to get up such things for
people to whom they are all new and strange ; but who,
while not critical, have intelligence to appreciate them
fairly well.

We were quite struck with the good looks of most of
our party, of the men particularly. Nearly all had good

MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 9?

features and very good figures. Possibly this lot happened
to be a little above the average, but we consider the
Canadians in general to be rather a handsome race. We
see a good many children, little girls especially, that are
very lovely. As women, with their large families and
hard work, they are apt to fade early.

part

THE FEUDAL SYSTEM

THE FEUDAL SYSTEM

UNTIL quite recent times the whole of the settled, and
much of the unsettled, part of Canada was held under feudal
tenure. The seigneurs held grants of land from the Crown
on the simple condition of faith and homage. These grants,
however, were liable to be changed or revoked or new con-
ditions imposed at the will of the sovereign. " For such
is our pleasure "was the only reason necessary to be given
by the king. These tracts were divided by the seigneurs
into farms of convenient size, usually four arpents of 192
English feet each in front by forty arpents in depth, which
were conceded (leased) at a perpetual rental, besides other
obligations, of which more hereafter.

As the river was the great highway in summer, and
sometimes offered the most available roadway in winter,
and as the best land lay along its banks, the seigneuries
bordering on it were made narrow in front and extending
back to a considerable depth. The farm-lands being laid
out on the same plan gave to each tenant the privilege of
fishing in the St. Lawrence and cultivating a certain
amount of excellent land on its banks with sufficient
pasture and wood-land farther back.

Sub-divisions of these farms were, and still are, made on
the same system, so that we may often hear a man say
that he has an arpent or two arpents of land, meaning that
he has one or two arpents of front by forty arpents in
depth. This method of dividing lots accounts for the

102 THE FEUDAL SYSTEM.

long, narrow strips of land with their apparently intermi-
nable fences that so constantly meet the eye of the trav-
eller.

This plan offered several advantages to the settlers, such
as the making of roads, social intercourse, and, most of all,
prompt mutual help against the attacks of the savages.
The same system extended to the lands in the rear when
those on the river bank had all been conceded. It is only
in comparatively modern times, since the Conquest in
fact, that lands far from the St. Lawrence have been con-
sidered of any great value ; and only as the growth of the
population has forced the younger generations to occupy
them have they been brought under cultivation.

This system also has made the main road from Quebec
to Montreal almost a continuous village, more densely
peopled in the vicinity of the churches, but still closely
settled nearly all the way.

Towards the end of the seventeenth century the rental
of these farms, in the neighborhood of Quebec, may be
reckoned at about " twenty sous and a good live capon "
for each arpent of front, or eighty sous and four capons
for a farm of not far from one hundred and thirty Eng-
lish acres. The amount seems absurdly small, although
money was worth nearly, or quite, five times as much as
now.

Aside from the rent the other obligations of the tenant
do not appear to have been burdensome, and were doubt-
less cheerfully met. The seigneurs as a rule lived among
their tenants, and shared both good and evil fortunes with
them. Until the latter part of the century it would seem
that there was little good and much hard fortune for both.

M. de Gaspe', in the " Canadians of Old," gives us an
excellent idea of the relations of the tenants to the seign-
eurs. It is a pity we have not more of the same kind of

THE FEUDAL SYSTEM. 103

history and from an earlier date. That there was great
mutual attachment and good will between them is certain,
and we have no reason to think M. de Gaspe at all exag-
gerates them. The planting of the May pole, which he
describes, however, I am sorry to find was not the spon-
taneous offering of the people. 1 had supposed it was all
done of their own free will ; but I find it was obligatory,
imposed by their deeds of concession of lands.

A book published in London in 1818 by Joseph Bou-
chette, formerly Surveyor- General of Canada, gives a
resume of the conditions of the concessions or perpetual
leases, which 1 cannot do better than quote for those who
would like to know more of this peculiar tenure. This
book, now out of print, gives the dates of grants, names
of grantees, and some remarks about each seigneury. It
is interesting to notice how little was then known, even
by its general surveyor, of the interior of the country, as
well as the progress Canada has made " within the mem-
ory of men still living." The writer of it was apparently
born about the time of the Conquest and wrote toward
the end of the second war between the United States and
Great Britain. His confidence in the future of Canada is
unbounded, and his loyalty to British institutions fully as
great as that of his countrymen of today. His disparage-
ment of the United States and all that belongs to them is
mildly amusing.

Mr. Bouchette says :

At the time this country fell under the English government the
feudal system universally prevailed in the tenure of lands, and
still continues with respect to such as were then granted ; but the
townships and tracts disposed of by the British administration have
been granted in free and common socage, only two or three in-
stances to the contrary being known.

By the ancient custom of Canada lands were held immediately
from the king en fief, or en roture, on condition of rendering fealty

104 THE FEUDAL SYSTEM.

and homage on accession to the seigniorial property, and in the
event of a transfer thereof by sale or otherwise, except in hereditary
succession, it was subject to the payment of a quint, or the fifth of
the whole purchase money, and which if paid by the purchaser im-
mediately entitled him to the rebat, or a reduction of two-thirds of
the quint. This custom still prevails.

The tenanciers, or holders of lands en roture, are subject to some
particular conditions, but they are not at all burdensome. For in-
stance, they pay a small annual rent, usually between 2s. 6d. and 5s.,
(though in many seigniories the rents of the new concessions have
been considerably increased,) to this is added some article of pro-
vision, such as a couple of fowls, a goose, or a bushel of wheat, or
something else of domestic consumption, and they are also bound
to grind their corn at the " moulin banal," or the seigneur's mill,
where one-fourteenth part of it is taken for his use as moulure (or
toll for grinding), to repair the highways and by-roads through
their lands, and to make new ones, which when opened must be
surveyed and approved by the grand voyeur of the district, and es-
tablished by proces -verbal.

Lands are sometimes held by bail amphiteotique, or a long lease
of 20, 30, 50, or any number of years, subject to a very small rent
only. Franc alleu is a freehold, under which lands are exempt from
all rights or duties to seigneurs, acknowledging no lord but the king.
Cencive is a feudal tenure, subject to an annual rent paid either in
money or produce.

The seigneurs, by the old laws that have not been repealed, are
entitled to constitute courts and preside as judges therein, in what
is denominated haute et basse justice, which takes cognizance of all
crimes committed within their jurisdiction except murder and
treason. This privilege has lain dormant ever since the Conquest
nor is it probable that it will be revived as such ample provision is
now made for the regular administration of the laws.

The lods et ventes constitute a part of the seigneur's revenue. It
is the right to a twelfth part of the purchase money of every estate
within his seigniory that changes the owner by sale or other means
equivalent to a sale. This twelfth is to be paid by the purchaser,
and is exclusive of the sum agreed upon between him and the seller.
For prompt payment of it a reduction of a fourth part is usually
made. In cases of a sale of this nature the lord possesses the droit
de retrait, which is the privilege of pre-emption at the highest bidden

THE FEUDAL SYSTEM. 105

price within forty days after the sale has taken place. It is, how-
ever, a privilege but seldom exercised.

All the fisheries within a seigniory contribute to increase the
proprietor's revenue as he receives tithes of all the fish caught or an
equivalent sum. Besides these rights he is privileged to fell timber
anywhere within his seigniory for erecting mills, repairing roads or
constructing new ones, or other works of public or general utility.
Many proprietors of seigniories have become very wealthy from
their revenues, as the sales and exchanges of estates have been of
late years very numerous.

Lands held by Roman Catholics under any of the aforementioned
tenures are further subject to the payment to their curates of one-
twenty-sixth part of all grain produced upon them, and to occa-
sional assessments for building and repairing churches, parsonage
houses, or other works belonging to the church. The remainder of
the granted lands within the Province not held under any of these
tenures are in free and common socage, from which a reservation of
two-sevenths is made; one thereof is appropriated to the crown,
and the other set apart for the maintenance and support of the prot-
estant clergy.

All these rights of the seigneurs, together with many
other so-called rights that were unwritten, existing only
through customs originating in the Middle Ages, or in the
times when subjects were merely serfs, continued in force
up to 1854, although few of their objectionable claims ever
obtained much footing in this country. The rights of the
seigneurs were so unfavorable to the prosperity of the
Province that a commission was appointed in 1853 to pre-
pare a plan for their commutation. This commission was
probably the most talented and distinguished body of men
ever brought together in Canada, and the work done by it
was a great one. The seigneurs were shorn of any unjust
pretentions and recompensed for those legal rights of which
it was thought best to deprive them. The tenant was al-
lowed to commute his rental on reasonable terms and be-
come actual proprietor, in fee simple, of his holdings.

106 THE FEUDAL SYSTEM.

The arrangement was generally satisfactory to all. The
far greater part of the conceded properties have been thus
commuted ; but there are some that still pay the old rent
—money, fowls, etc. Very few seigneuries now remain
in the families of the original grantees ; perhaps not more
than five or six in the Province.

French kings had long endeavored to limit the powers
of the nobles, and in New France all things conspired to
prevent the exercise of unjust practices. In fact it does
not appear that many Canadian seigneurs were disposed
to make much use of such, although there were no doubt
great differences among them in this respect. I have
heard of one who, even in modern times, claimed that he
had the first right to everything within the limits of his
seigneury.

Learning that I wished to know something more of the
relations of seigneur and tenant, a friend placed in my
hands a " Traite des Fiefs " in seven large volumes. It
was published in Paris in 1749, and is a complete digest
of all the laws, edicts and decisions concerning the matter
down to that time.

I found this treatise extremely curious and interesting,
although bearing but slightly on feudalism in Canada.
Scores of points that now seem to us utterly trifling and
unimportant are treated in the most serious and minute
manner. The long discussions and arguments help to
show how poorly defined were the powers of the nobles
in ancient times. In some parts of France written laws
prevailed and in other parts ancient customs, some of them
dating from the 10th century, formed the only law. On
one point the author cites no less than seventy-five differ-
ent customs. The "droit de corvee," which in Canada
was limited to the right of the seigneur to compel his ten-
ants to work on roads or other works of public utility,

THE FEUDAL SYSTEM. 107

and the right of "banditti" which in Canada was reduced
to the obligation to bring all grain to the seigneurial mill
to be ground, are carefully and exhaustively discussed.

In France, a renewal of faith and homage which, as
this author says " is the essence of a fief," was due from
the seigneur to the sovereign at every change in the suc-
cession on the one side or the other ; the noble must ac-
knowledge allegiance to the monarch on his accession to
the throne, as well as on his own succession to new rank.
The tenant, always called " vassal " by this author, must
offer faith and homage to his seigneur upon every newly-
acquired title on his own part, whether by purchase, in-
heritance or otherwise. In Canada the seigneurs tendered
faith and homage to the representative of the king on his
arrival in the country, presenting at the same time decla-
rations of titles.

In Canada, the tenant was under no obligation to mili-
tary service towards his seigneur, while in France he might
be obliged, under one form of allegiance, to serve his
master personally, at his own expense, as long as the war
might last; under another he would be bound to serve in
the same manner for forty days. After that he might
send a horseman in his place.

The best short account of feudal customs in Canada
that I know of is that given by Parkman in chap, xv of
" The Old Regime in Canada."

I have in my possession a deed dated June 19th, 1694,
conceding a lot of land of three arpents in front by forty
in depth in consideration of twenty sous and one good
live capon, or twenty sous for the value thereof at the
pleasure of the seigneur, for each arpent of front, and one
sous of cens, payable at the principal manor-house of the
seigneury on St. Martin's day in each year so long as the
grantee shall occupy the land.

!08 THE FEUDAL SYSTEM.

The tenant is to help to maintain such roads as may be
deemed necessary for public use, " tenir feu et lieu " (live
on the premises), bring his grain to the seigneur's mill
to be ground, aid the other habitants to plant on the
first day of May in each year a May pole in front of
the principal door of the manor-house, and to pay to the
seigneur one-fifteenth of all fish caught in the St. Law-
rence in front of the land (he having the right to hunt and
fish over and in front of it), * * * and to be " subject
to cens et rentes carrying with them the lods et ventes
according to the custom of Paris."

The giving of this deed would seem to have been a vol-
untary act on the part of the seigneur, for the grantee was
not present when it was made, and the notary only ac-
cepts it in his name " in case it should be agreeable to
him."

The rent and other charges were doubtless commuted
under the act of 1854, and the owner now holds in fee
simple, free from cens et rentes, lots et ventes, and all the
rest of it. He can now get his grain ground where he
likes and is free to eat all the fish he can catch.

The front line of the lot described extended three ar-
pents along the shore of the River St. Lawrence and its
side lines were those that separated it from its neighbors,
but its rear boundary was probably still in the primeval
forest.

When this deed was made, Quebec, although the seat
of civil, military and religious government for the whole
of Canada, was only a small station, and the entire popu-
lation of the colony could not have exceeded 12,000 souls.
(A census taken in 1681 made it 9,781.)

Sturdy old Count Frontenac was Governor, Louis XIV
was King of France, and William of Orange King of Eng-
land.

THE FEUDAL SYSTEM. 109

In that same year bands of treacherous savages and no
less savage Canadians were murdering settlers all along
the New England frontier. Parkman tells us all about
it, and how at Durham, near Portsmouth, N. H., a hun-
dred and four persons, mostly women and children, were
tomahawked and scalped, and how a French officer says
that his Indian allies intended to " divide up into par-
ties of four or five and knock people on the head by sur-
prise, which cannot fail to have a good effect."

This was the character of the warfare carried on by the
French and Indians, aided, excited and continually encour-
aged by priests and missionaries.

Although many seigneuries had been granted along the
River St. Lawrence and a considerable number of farms
conceded, yet the number of habitants actually occupying
their lands must have been very small. Many of them
had been drafted into the militia and were serving on mil-
itary expeditions, largely under the command of their
seigneurs. Others, reckless, venturesome and impatient of
all restraint, had taken to the woods in company with con-
genial spirits from the ranks of the noblesse and became
coureurs de bois, hunting, trading and fighting on their
own account, defying control either of Church or State.

The seigneurs were not as a rule men of wealth and
their manor-houses were usually unpretentious, probably
much of the character of a Canadian farm-house of good
class of the present day, having one or two large rooms,
while the chambers were small and low. In many cases
the house, as well as stables, storehouses and workshops,
was surrounded with palisades, and the whole arranged to
serve as a place of refuge and defense from savages. A
chapel was sometimes also within the enclosure when not
included in the house itself.

Some establishments, however, were of greater preten-

HO THE FEUDAL SYSTEM.

tions, as for instance, that of the Seigneury of Longueil,
which was built of stone, the whole enclosure covering a
space of 170 by 270 feet. It was doubtless modelled after
an old French chateau and by its extent and imposing ap-
pearance gained for the seigneur the title of Baron. It
was destroyed by fire before 1699, and a church was built
on its site, and in part of the same materials, at about that
date*

Some of the seigneuries were of great extent. That of
Beaupre, granted in 1636, contained 695,704 arpents, or
about 900 square miles.

The most valuable was that of the island of Montreal,
a greater part of which was first granted in 1640 to two
persons named Cherrier and Le Royer. Whether they
disposed of it, or whether it was for some reason forfeited
to the crown, there is no record to show. It passed in
1664 from the Sulpitians of Paris to the Seminary of St.
Sulpice in Montreal, to which the titles were confirmed by
the king in 1714, so that the Seminary became sole pro-
prietor of that immensely valuable property.

By the seigneurial act of 1854 the Society was obliged
to accept commutation from such of its tenants as then
demanded it. As regarded new concessions it was of
course at liberty to make its own terms and conceded
many lots of land subject to perpetual ground rents, but
rarely sold any. Its property in the city and district of
Montreal is therefore at the present time of almost un-
known value.

In and immediately around Quebec the policy of grant-

*It is to be hoped that it was not alone the appearance of the
mansion that brought its owner this distinction. The family well
deserved the title by varied and valuable services. Mr. Parkman
speaks of it as the most truly eminent in Canada. A brother of the
baron was the founder of New Orleans.

THE FEUDAL SYSTEM. Ill

ing small fiefs or dependencies was instituted by the
"Company of»New France," and continued by successive
governors — Montmagny, Frontenac and others. Its object
was to favor compact settlement in times when the colony
was weak and threatened by powerful enemies. I have
been told that some of these fiefs were scarcely larger than
good-sized house lots.

The palisaded or otherwise fortified manor-houses
served not infrequently as places of refuge and defense.
The most notable incident of this kind was that of the
holding of the fort of Vercheres (about 20 miles below
Montreal on the south side of the St. Lawrence) by the
young daughter of the seigneur.

Outside the fort was a block -house, connected with it
by a covered way. One morning late in October, 1692,
the inhabitants were at work in the fields and some of the
soldiers were out hunting at considerable distance. The
seigneur and his wife were away. Only two soldiers, two
boys, an old man of eighty years, and a number of women
and children were left in the place.

The seigneur's young daughter, Madeleine, aged fourteen
years, was by the landing-place at the river with a hired
man named Laviolette. Suddenly she heard firing from
the direction of the workers in the fields, and directly after
Laviolette cried out, " Run, madamoiselle, run ; here come
the Iroquois ! " Turning, she saw forty or fifty of them
at the distance of a pistol-shot, and ran as fast as she
could towards the fort. The Indians, finding that they
could not take her alive before she reached the gate, stop-
ped and fired at her, but she ran on, with the bullets
whistling about her. As soon as she was near enough to
be heard she cried, "To arms, to arms! " but the two sol-
diers were so frightened that they hid themselves. She
shut the gate and tried to think what she could do to save

H2 THE FEUDAL SYSTEM.

herself and the others. She found some of the palisades
down and immediately ordered them to be replaced, she
herself helping at the work. In the block -house she
found the two soldiers, one of whom was just about to set
a lighted match to the magazine to blow them all up.
She sent him out of the place and by her spirit and reso-
lution compelled obedience to her commands.

With the help of the two soldiers, whore panic soon
subsided, and of her two brothers, ten and twelve years
old, she opened fire on the Indians, who, deceived as to
the strength of the garrison, and reluctant as usual to
attack a fortified place, turned to killing or making pris-
oners of the people in the fields.

During the day Madeleine continued to show a semblance
of strength and at night kept up such a constant watch on
the bastions that the Indians never suspected the weakness
of the defense. For forty-eight hours the girl neither ate
nor slept, but kept encouraging her little force with hopes
of speedy relief. This state of alarm and anxiety contin-
ued until at the end of a week a lieutenant, sent by M. de
Callieres, arrived with forty men, and the brave girl sur-
rendered her charge to him. He inspected the fort, found
everything in order and a sentinel on each bastion. Then
she told him that it was quite time to relieve them for
they had not been off their posts for a week.

In recognition of the bravery of this young heroine a
pension for life was afterward granted her. A portion of
the old fort is still standing.

Part D1Tinr

CHANGES IN TYPE

CHANGES IN TYPE

I HAVE often wished that I could see in print a full
description of some of the interesting forms of civiliza-
tion that were peculiar to Canada during the fifty years
before and fifty years after the Conquest. There may be
such accounts in existence, but 1 do not know where to
find them in any collected form. It was a period of
growth and transition, whose like could not exist under
other conditions than those of the climate, races, and modes
of life of the people of Canada, and the change from
feudal to alien monarchical institutions.

Some types that existed in the eighteenth century have
become nearly, or quite, extinct in the nineteenth. There
should be much of interest concerning them that exists
only in obscure archives or survives only in tradition.

All of the high military, and some of the highest civil,
officials were of course immediately supplanted at the time
of the Conquest by those of the new regime. All the
remaining classes, the judges, lawyers, notaries, habitants,
and others, have since undergone great changes. We can
only note a few of them.

Of the sturdy and adventurous canoeman and the hardy
and resourceful carter the vocations have almost passed
away. Steamboats have superseded the one and rail-
roads the other on all the main lines of travel.

In the seventeenth century canoeing was almost the
only mode of travel. Soldiers, priests, traders, coureurs
de bois, and the noted explorers of that time were accus-
tomed to start from Quebec, for the regions of the Great

116

CHANGES IN TYPE.

Lakes and far beyond, in bark canoes, carrying little pro-
vision and relying mainly on game and fish for subsistence.
We can form little idea of the dangers and hardships which
they experienced.

In later times (and there are a few old residents still liv-
ing who can tell of them), companies of twenty, thirty, or
forty loaded canoes would often start together for the
lumbering regions of the Upper Ottawa or St. Maurice
rivers, the crews all singing " En Roulant Ma Boule," or
some similar refrain, keeping time with the strokes of
their paddles. The canoemen were portageurs, too, in
those days, such as we seldom see now. Their merchan-
dise and provisions were ordinarily packed in bales of one
hundred pounds each, of which each man took two as his
regular load on the portages and a third when necessary.
A not very unusual load was a barrel of pork, to be carried
over roads that were only rocky foot-paths, obstructed
by fallen timber and traversed by streams that had to be
crossed on logs or fallen trees. There are plenty of men
strong enough, but men inured to such work are scarce
in our day. In the north, away up in the Hudson

CHANGES IN TYPE. 117

Bay Company's territory, canoeing and portaging are
still done, but the friend to whom 1 have referred on page
19 says that the Indians and half-
breeds of that region carry no such
loads.

If you meet with one of these old
residents you will not find it difficult
to arouse his enthusiasm and start
him on a flood of reminiscences that
will interest you as much as they do
him.

Those of my readers who have
crossed the St. Lawrence in canoes A Huron chief-
amongst floating ice still have vivid recollections of the
perils of the passage, although the canoes were made of
wood and not of the frail bark used by summer voya-
geurs on inland waters. If accidents were rare, exemp-
tion from them was due not to lack of danger, but to the
skill of the boatmen. Not many will regret that steam
has generally supplanted humanity in that particular direc-
tion, however much delight we may take in seeing human
brain and muscle overcome obstacles.

The carter of old, like the canosman, has nearly dis-
appeared. Railroads have so penetrated the country that
winter drives of two, three, or more days are no longer
common incidents. A journey that I have often made
in winter, sometimes in four hours when the roads were
good and my veteran carter, Trudel, drove his slashing
tandem, or that occupied two or three days if a heavy
snow-storm came up, or if the roads were bad and I had a
country carter, I now do by rail in little over an hour. But
the old journey was interesting. If there were fatigue and
hardship, there was also pleasure. The new conveyance is
safe and comfortable, but dull and commonplace. That it

118 CHANGES IN TYPE.

is preferable we all admit, but there are some of us yet
left who occasionally meet and talk over the evenings we
have spent storm-bound at certain places en route, and
speak of the many who have gone over to the majority,
with something of regret for the old days, like old people
everywhere.

The canoeman and the carter of old have almost dis-
appeared ; but the seigneur of old is more completely
gone than either. He was a picturesque and conspicuous
figure in Canadian life.

Although the first seigneurs were nobles, yet attempts
to establish a permanent Canadian nobility failed. The
country was too poor. While a few of the seigneurs
attempted for a time to maintain style and dignity corres-
ponding to their rank, their revenues were insufficient, ow-
ing to the sparseness of the population.* Others, lower in
the social scale, of whom there was a considerable number,
could not make much effort in that direction. Although
landlords with large estates, their poverty obliged them to
become in some measure habitants, sometimes traders.

Some of the first and many of
the second generation of these
yielded to the fascinations of the
wild, free, and adventurous life of
the coureur de bois. Others be-
came explorers, and helped to dis-
cover and make known the great
rivers of the west, and to found
trading-posts that have since be-
come great cities. But almost ev-
Pere Marquette. ery seigneur was a soldier, or ready

*In 1712 ninety-one seigneuries had been granted in a population
not exceeding fifty thousand souls.

CHANGES IN TYPE.

119

to become one ; his tastes and traditions led him to a
soldier's life.

When the Governor of the colony called out Canadian
militia, the seigneurs took the field at the head of their
tenants. Both officers and men had become skilled in
Indian modes of warfare, which were more to surprise and
murder their enemy than to fight him.

I think we may suppose that those of the habitants who
had settled on and begun to cultivate some land served
only under the officers regularly appointed over them and
on regularly organized expeditions ; and that only adven-
turers and outlaws formed the nucleus of the savage hordes
that devastated the borders of New England, although led
by younger members of the Cana-
dian noblesse of no less savage
disposition.

In the intervals of comparative
peace the seigneurs devoted them-
selves to the cultivation of their
lands, and carried on more or less
trading without materially better-
ing their condition, until again
called out en masse to defend their
La Corne de St. Luce. country
against the English, half a cen-
tury later. After the Conquest
many of them returned to France,
while others settled down on their
estates and became simple coun-
try gentlemen, prospering greatly
with the improved condition of
the country and the rapidly in-
creasing population.

From some of these families
have sprung men who have dis-

M. Chartier de Lotbiniere.

120

CHANGES IN TYPE.

One of the last of the Old
School.

tinguished themselves in various lines of life in the later
history of Canada ; but many families have become ex-
tinct, or have merged into the mass of the people.

As other classes have changed, so have judges, lawyers,
and notaries. Of the first two 1 know little except through
tradition and anecdote, but of
some of the notaries of the old
school my recollection is so clear
that I cannot help noticing the
difference. 1 distinctly remember
one of the last of these, a man
of the same pattern as those we
read of as the depositary of fam-
ily secrets, the one without whose
knowledge and assistance no busi-
ness of any consequence could be
properly transacted. In looks,
dress, manners, and habits, he was the real old French
notary.

The notaries of Canada are a large and respectable class.
That they form a useful class in a community where so
many can neither read nor write it is needless to say, and
to business men in general they are a great convenience.
A considerable knowledge of legal forms is necessary to
the profession, and a notarial document is not easy to dis-
pute in courts of law. Wills, contracts, deeds, settlements,
and agreements of all kinds are made by them, and, as a
rule, well made. 1 have sometimes thought that the nature
of the notaries' profession tended to encourage personal
truth and honesty. Breaches of trust and unfair dealings
of any kind are rare among them, and secrets or private
matters are generally safe in their hands.

The younger notaries of the present time have a less re-
gard for their profession, than their ancestors and are more

CHANGES IN TYPE. 121

ready to abandon it for office, or the chances of political life.

The priest, by education and training inclined to be
most conservative, is not altogether what he was. It was
not that he wanted to change, but he found that he must
adapt himself more or less to the forces that would move
the world whether he liked it or no. In some things he
has given way and gone forward ; in others he still refuses
to move. I can see changes that I cannot describe.

The habitant has changed with the others. He has
been slow to move, but has lost something of his conserv-
atism. He does not now invariably wear gray homespun,
although I would not say that he does not prefer it. I am
inclined to think that his wearing of factory-made goods
comes about not through any vanity of his own, but be-
cause his wife and daughters find more profitable employ-
ment than the slow and tedious processes of spinning
and weaving by hand. The daughters may have been
obliged — some of them— to go to the States for this em-
ployment, but they have found it nevertheless, and too
few are left at home to turn spinning wheels enough for
all their needs. In many other ways also the demand for
female labor has increased. Thirty years ago a seamstress
was glad to work for twenty cents a day, whereas now
she wants fifty. This instances only one of the many
forces that compelled the habitant to abandon some of his
inherited customs. Giving them up has been a slow and
painful process to men with little or no education or ambi-
tion and strongly bound by tradition, but they have not
entirely withstood the advance of civilization.

Emigration of the habitant class within the last twenty -
five years has been enormous, and still goes on, although
fluctuating from year to year according to the condition of
business. There is scarcely a family in our vicinity from
which some immediate member has not " monte dans les

122 CHANGES IN TYPE.

Etats " (gone up into the States). Whole families have
been accustomed to go and return almost annually. A
good many of them find their way back and remain at
home ; for even if they obtain constant and remunerative
employment the civilization of "the States" does not
always suit them, and they long for their own rivers and
forests, their familiar speech, their churches, and their
inherited customs. Then, although they earn much more
in the States, they are obliged to work much harder and
more steadily than at home ; and it is not every one that
likes hard work, even if well paid. A man who lately
returned, when asked why he came back when he was
doing so well, replied, "Je m'ennuyais du pays'' (I was
tired of the country). He had nothing to complain of,
but he was homesick. The busy, earnest life of the States
does not please the majority of French Canadians.

Within a few years, however, so many have decided to
remain and make the States their home that there are now
about two-thirds as many Canadians in the States as in
Canada, and the regularly migrating contingent has pro-
portionately diminished.

Although the most of these Canadians make very good
American citizens, and some have risen to posts of honor
and responsibility, yet I cannot say that my Canadian
friends in their own country show much of the public
spirit of New Englanders and the people of the Northern
States generally. In all such matters as roads, bridges,
drainage, sidewalks, and similar works for the public good
they are far behind their American neighbors. This, I
imagine, is largely attributable to the inherited habit of
depending entirely on the Government for all matters of
the kind. In the old times the people had no voice what-
ever in public affairs, and since they have had control of
their local concerns they have not risen to any wide con-

CHANGES IN TYPE. 123

sideration of the general welfare. Another reason is the
comparative poverty of the people. The habitant has as
a rule but little ready money, and it goes terribly against
the grain to pay out anything for taxes, although he
knows he will receive an almost immediate advantage
from them. He has very little notion of doing or sacri-
ficing anything for the general good, even while he shares
in it. For example, the law requires every land-owner to
keep the road in front of his property in order. In the
villages where the houses are close together, the roads may
be quite good, but outside of these they are liable to be as
bad as they can be without being dangerous. They must
inconvenience him very seriously before he will repair
them.

Still another reason, and one that is especially demor-
alizing, is that the Government has been in the habit
of making grants for roads, bridges, etc., for the purpose
of political effect. Such practices are not at all unknown
on the other side of the line, but they are more effectual
in a small country than in a large one, and it is easier to
see their workings. The supposed ability of a candidate
for office to obtain grants for local purposes is a prime,
and often the chief, factor in his popularity.

The average habitant voter has no political opinions
worth the name. His vote depends on personal prejudices
or private interests more tha*n anything else. His talk on
political matters mainly consists of abuse of the men of
the opposite party. He has no principles as to public
policy behind it, nor is he very sensitive to the wrong-
doings or short-comings of his own party leaders. He
will tell you that he has no great confidence in any of the
leaders, but that there are some that he considers a little
worse than the others. A priest from a back country
parish 1 think expressed the feelings of the habitants quite

124 CHANGES IN TYPE.

well when he said recently to a person supposed to have
some influence with the Government, " My people don't
care anything about the school question or the tariff or
reciprocity or any of those things. What we want is
three mails a week, and if we don't get them your party
will not have a single vote in my parish at the next
elections."

I heard that the man that I employed to work in the
garden and do chores about the house, although not a
voter, was a great political worker, and one day I thought
I would chaff him a little. He admitted that he was accus-
tomed to work for one of the parties, but that if 1 pre-
ferred that he should work for the other or not work at
all he would do as I wished. I told him I did not care
which party he worked for, which relieved his mind, for
he said he was a poor man and wanted to earn what he
could ; and as he had worked for a long time for one
party and always been well paid, he would like to con-
tinue to do so.

A certain amount of real property or its equivalent in
the payment of rental or in the possession of fixed revenue
is a necessary qualification for voters in this Province.
The amount is small, but sufficient to exclude the votes of
the utterly irresponsible.

Elections are conducted much more peaceably now than
they were thirty years ago. I remember the time when
gangs of roughs were engaged to go from place to place
to see that votes for their employers were protected, and
that others were not.

A man, now a carter, whom I occasionally employ,
frankly regrets the time when his 185 pounds avoirdu-
pois, his activity and considerable knowledge of "the
manly art," were potent factors in election contests. In
those days his services were sure to be retained by some-

CHANGES IN TYPE. 125

body. Money seems to have taken the place of force, for
I remember that out of 72 members returned as elected to
Parliament at an election not very long ago, some 30 were
unseated for bribery or " corrupt practices."

Great hopes are entertained of benefit from laws re-
cently enacted regarding the purity of elections, and it is
believed that some improvement has already taken place.
Cases of contested elections in this country are tried by
the courts, which is perhaps an improvement on the Amer-
ican plan.

Speaking of election or other fights, there are few French
Canadians who have much pugilistic science. Their strong
point is the rough-and-tumble scrimmage, where strength
is of more account than science. In this kind of fighting
the Canadian is no mean adversary. His power lies in
his back, legs, and shoulders, and this he is always ready to
exert. Indeed I very often get out of patience with the
men because when they have a very heavy load to move
they will not use the simplest mechanical contrivances,
such as skids, levers, or rollers. They merely take hold
and lift. It is harder, and in the end usually takes more
time ; but that is their fashion, and they will not bother
with any other if they can avoid it. At the same time
they arrange things with a good deal of ingenuity when it
is really necessary.

IQ

part 1T£
CHANSONS CANADIENNES

CHANSONS CANADIENNES

OF folk-lore as generally understood, in the way of local
legends, 1 have found little, but the contes and the popular
songs, of which there is a very large number, properly be-
long to this category. (Comparatively) Few of them have
ever been printed in this country, but both words and music
have come down by tradition. All of them (possibly
with very rare exceptions) come from France, and few
seem to have originated later than the 15th or 16th cen-
turies. The airs are generally on a scale not now in use,
and some of them are impossible to harmonize on correct
musical principles without material change in the melody.

Partly from personal notation and partly through the
courtesy of Mr. Ernest Gagnon of Quebec, who has made
in his " Chansons Populaires " the largest collection that
has yet been published, and to whom I acknowledge my
indebtedness, I am able to give a few songs merely as
specimens of hundreds of others. I have not attempted to
select the best, but rather the most popular, or at all events
those most familiar to me. On the same principle I give
the words of some not always precisely as they may have
been printed, but as I have been accustomed to hear them.
Different persons rarely sing them precisely alike. Mr.
Gagnon, in a note to me, puts this truly and concisely
by saying that " in the matter of popular songs there are
as many variations as there are throats."

" A la Claire Fontaine" is known and sung by every
one. " On nest pas Canadien sans cela" says Mr.
Gagnon. (One is not a Canadian without that.) " Par

130 CHANSONS CANADIENNES.

Derriere Chez Mon Pere " is not less familiar. A version
of this under the title " Vive la Canadienne " is played
at concerts and the like in connection with " God Save
the Queen " as the fmale de rigeur, as sometimes also is
" A la Claire Fontaine."

To the song " Mon Canard Blanc " or " Derriere Chez
Nous Ya-t-un e'tang " various choruses are sung. The most
popular is that lively and vigorous one, " En Roulant Ma
Boule," known to every Canadian.

Another very taking chorus is the one, " C'est L'aviron
Qui Nous Mene Qui Nous Monte." Widely known as it
is, I could not find it in print, and was obliged to appeal to
an old habitant for a correct version. When asked if he
knew it he promptly replied that he knew that and two
hundred and fifty others, and was with difficulty restrained
from singing them all.

With other songs I include " Malbrouck S'en Va-t-en
Guerre," not because it is very old, but because in one of
its many versions it is so often heard. One of them is
precisely the familiar air of " We Won't Go Home Till
Morning," and another has been made famous by
" Trilby." Neither of these, however, is the one most
generally used.

The air of " Vive Napoleon" is very ancient and has
undergone many changes. " Vive Napoleon " has been
substituted for " Vive la Roi." The Canadians sing "Vive
la Roi de la Reine," thus avoiding, says Mr. Gagnon, " the
hiatus that would occur in singing * le roi et la reine.' "

" Isabeau S'y Promene " is extremely quaint and pleas-
ing.

If any person who has some, even a very slight, acquaint-
ance with French and music, will take a little pains to no-
tice how the words and music go together, and see with
what vigor and swing they move, and the peculiar inter-

CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 131

vals, he will, unless by chance he should already have
heard the songs in their native or chosen habitat, find that a
new source of enjoyment has been opened to him. To
those who have not much knowledge of the subject it may
be well to say that there need be no hesitation about
strongly bringing out the final e when needed to fill out
the measure when it would be mute in speech or prose.
For example, in the chorus " Vole, Mon Coeur, Vole," Vole
is used as a word of two syllables. In " A la Claire Fon-
taine" the final es have separate notes. Something of this,
as is well known, is usual in all French music, but it is nat-
urally more conspicuous in popular songs than in others.

Noise is of course a great factor in these songs, and the
airs are pitched very high. There is no attempt at part
singing. The voices are assumed to be in unison, though
we must confess that they sometimes fail to hit the mark.

Doubtless the most enjoyable circumstances under which
these songs can be given are those under which I have
oftenest heard them — on canoeing voyages and around
camp-fires. When two or more . canoes are together on
some quiet water, nothing is more delightful than to hear
a voice from one of them start one of these songs, sing-
ing perhaps a couple of lines, which are repeated in cho-
rus. Then may come more lines similarly echoed, and
so on, the chorus forming by far the most important part
of the performance. If the journey is a leisurely one, the
song will very likely be " Isabeau S'y Promene," but if
there is occasion for haste it will be " Derriere Chez Nous
Ya-t-un e'tang," with the ringing chorus, " En Roulant
Ma Boule." Around camp-fires the songs are not less
fascinating than in the canoes. Perhaps this is owing
somewhat to the state of mind of the listeners. It is some-
times surprising how feeble the strongest intellect will
show itself to be when, after a day filled with varied out-

132

CHANSONS CANADIENNES.

of -door pleasures, a man has eaten a supper that aston-
ishes him, fallen back on a bed of branches, and stretched
his feet out toward a cheerful blaze.

We once had a considerable party of staid and dignified
college professors. After a round of Canadian songs, these
serious minded gentlemen stood up and sang " Johnny
Schmoker," " Was Macht der Herr Papa," and a lot more
of the college songs of thirty or forty years ago ! It was
a pleasure to see these earnest scholars recalling their soph-
omore days, joining hands and singing " Gaudeamus
Igitur" with all the enthusiasm of youth.

Another time when we camped in a pouring rain which
dampened their clothes but not their spirits, two young
ladies amused themselves by concocting and singing such
stuff as this :

Hark, the rain is falling down,

Hear it splosh, hear it splosh !
It will make our denim gowns

Ready for the wash.

* -X-

*

Hear one happy maiden cry

" Is it we? Is it we?"
Hear the other's quick reply,

" I do hope it be."

j Ij

But this has nothing to do with the real programme.
The usual " numbers " were such as the following :—

CHANSONS CANADIENNES.
A la Claire Fontaine.

133

A la clai- re fon-tai-ne M'en al- lant pro-me- ner,

:^jjj-ijjrj \fpf i jj'ji

J'ai trou-ve 1'eau si bel- le Que je m'y

suis baigne.

Lui ya long-temps que je t'aime, Jamais je ne t'oublierai.

A la claire fontaine
M'en allant promener,
J'ai trouve 1'eau si belle
Que je m'y suis baigne.
*Lui ya longtemps que je t'aime,
Jamais je ne t'oublierai.

J'ai trouve 1'eau si belle
Que je m'y suis baigne;
Sous les feuilles d'un chene
Je me suis fait secher.
Lui ya longtemps, etc.

Sous les feuilles d:un chene
Je me suis fait secher ;
Sur la plus haute branche
Le rossignol chantait.
Lui ya longtemps, etc.

Sur la plus haute branche
Le rossignol chantait.

* "I,ui ya," old form for "Il-y-a.'

134 CHANSONS CANADIENNES.

Chante, rossignol, chante,
Toi qui as le coeur gai.
Lui ya longtemps, etc.

Chante, rossignol, chante,
Toi qui as le coeur gai ;
Tu as le coeur a rire,
Moi je l'ai-t-a pleurer.
Lui ya longtemps, etc.

Tu as le coeur a rire,
Moi je l'ai-t-a pleurer;
J'ai perdu ma maitresse
Sans 1'avoir merite'.
Lui ya longtemps, etc.

J'ai perdu ma maitresse
Sans 1'avoir merite,
Pour un bouquet de roses
Que je lui refusal.
Lui ya longtemps, etc.

Pour un bouquet de roses
Que je lui refusai.
Je voudrais que la rose
Put encore au rosier.
Lui ya longtemps, etc.

Je voudrais que la rose
Put encore au rosier,
Je voudrais que le rosier
Put a la mer iete.

Lui ya longtemps, etc.

Je voudrais que le rosier
Put a la mer jete;
Je voudrais que la belle
Put encore a m'aimer.
Lui ya longtemps, etc.

CHANSONS CANADIENNES.

En Roulant Ma Boule.

135

ist time solo. Energico.

En rou- lant ma bou - le rou - lant, En rou-lant ma bou - le.

-N J|J JJ.|J -N

Der - rier' chez nous ya t'un e - tang- En rou - lant ma bou - le.

A W ~

Trois beaux can-ards s'en vont baignant, rou - li, rou-lant, ma bou-le rou - lant

Trois beaux canards s'en vont baignant,

En roulant ma boule,
Le fils du roi s'en va chassant,
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref.

Le fils du roi s'en va chassant,

En roulant ma boule,
Avec son grand fusil d'argent,
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref.

Avec son grand fusil d'argent,

En roulant ma boule.
Visa le noir, tua 16 blanc,
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref.

Visa le noir, tua le blanc,
En roulant ma boule,
O fils du roi, tu es mediant !
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref.

O fils du roi, tu es mediant !

En roulant ma boule,
D'avoir tue mon canard blanc,
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref.

136 CHANSONS CANADIENNES.

D'avoir tu£ mon canard blanc,

En roulant ma boule,
Par dessous 1'aile il perd son sang,
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref.

Par dessous 1'aile il perd son sang,

En roulant ma boule,
Par les yeux lui sort'nt des diamants,
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref.

Par les yeux lui sort'nt des diamants.

En roulant ma boule,
Et par le bee For et 1'argent,
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref.

Et par le bee 1'or et 1'argent,

En roulant ma boule,
Toutes ses plum's s'en vont au vent,
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref.

Toutes ses plum's s'en vont au vent,

En roulant ma boule,
Trois dam's s'en vont les ramassant,
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref.

Trois dam's s'en vont les ramassant,

En roulant ma boule,
C'est pour en faire un lit de camp,
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref.

C'est pour en faire un lit de camp,

En roulant ma boule,
Pour y coucher tous les passants,
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant.— Ref.

CHANSONS CANADIENNES.

137

Par Derrier' Chez Mon Pere.

Sung first as a solo, then as a chorus.

Par derrieY chez mon pi- re, Vo- k, mon cceur,

vo- le; Par derrieV chez mon pe- re, Lui ya-t-un pommier

doux.

Lui ya-t-un pommier doux, tout doux, Lui

ya-t-un pom- mier doux. D-C-

Par derrier' chez mon pere,

Vole, mon coeur, vole,

Par derrier' chez mon pere

Lui ya-t-un pommier doux.

Lui ya-t-un pommier doux, tout doux,

Lui ya-t-un pommier doux.

Les feuilles en sont vertes,

Vole, mon coeur, vole,

Les feuilles en sont vertes

Et le fruit en est doux.

Et le fruit en est doux, tout doux,

Et le fruit en est doux.

Tfois filles d'un prince,
Vole, mon coeur, vole,

138 CHANSONS CANADIENNES.

Trois filles d'un prince

Sont endormies dessous.

Sont endormies dessous, tout doux,

Sont endormies dessous.

La plus jeun' se reVeille,

Vole, mon coeur, vole,

La plus jeun' se reveille :

— Ma soeur, voila le jour.

Ma soeur, voila le jour, tout doux,

Ma soeur, voila le jour.

-Non, ce n'est qu'une etoile,
Vole, mon coeur, vole,
Non, ce n'est qu'une etoile
Qu'eclaire nos amours.
Qu'eclaire nos amours, tout doux,
Qu'eclaire nos amours.

C'est PAviron Qui Nous Mene.

Cest Pa-vi-ron qui nous mene, qui nous monte, C'est l'a-vi-ron qui nous

y=\

monte en hant.

CHANSONS CANADIENNES.

139

Isabeau s'y Prom£ne.

Solo first time to sign, then repeated by chorus.

Also from sign first time solo, then repeated by the chorus.

I- - sa- beau s'y pro- m£- ne

J*J*
w j

flsfc

Le long de son jar- din.

Le long de son jar-din, Sur le

*-Wfr

•48:

bord de

1'i- - le. Le long de son jar- din, Sur le

bord de 1'eau, Sur le bord du vais-seau.

Elle s'apergoit d'une barque
De trente matelots.
De trente matelots
Sur le bord de Pile, etc

Le plus jeune des trente,
Composait une chanson.
Composait une chanson
Sur le bord de 1'ile, etc.

— La chanson que tu chantes,
Je voudrais la savoir.
Je voudrais la savoir
Sur le bord de Pile, etc.

140 CHANSONS CANADIENNES.

-^Embarque dans ma barque,
Je te la chanterai.
Je te la chanterai
Sur le bord de 1'ile, etc.

Quand ell' fut dans la barque,
Ell' se mit a pleurer.
Ell' se mit a pleurer
Sur le bord de File, etc.

— Qu'avez-vous done la belle,
Qu'a-vous a tant pleurer?
Qu'a-vous a tant pleurer
Sur le bord de File, etc.

— Je pleur' mon anneau d'ore,
Dans Feau-z-il est tombe.
Dans Feau-z-il est tombe
Sur le bord de File, etc.

— Ne pleurez point la belle,
Je vous le plongerai.
Je vous le plongerai
Sur le bord de File, etc.

De la premiere plonge,
II n'a rien ramene'.
II n'a rien ramene
Sur le bord de File, etc.

De la seconde plonge
L'anneau-z-a voltige.
L'anneau-z-a voltige
Sur le bord de File, etc.

De la troisieme plonge

Le galant s'est noye.

Le galant s'est noye
Sur le bord de File,

Le galant s'est noye'
Sur le bord de Feau,
Sur le bord du vaisseau.

*fljf -fc

CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 141

Alouette.

irr — J^

/h LJ«* g1

tt~ * JhT Jj

J. J~J JJ.JJVJ

A - lou- et - te, gen-tille A- lou-et - te, A - lou- et - te, je te plu-me-rai,

f

w^ - " • • r-

Je te plu-merai la tete, je te plu-merai la tete, et la tete, et la tete,
if

A-lou-et - te, gentille A-lou-et - te, A - lou- et - te,

Alouette, gentille Alouette, Alouette, je te plumerai,
Je te plumerai le bee, je te plumerai le bee,
Et le bee, et le bee, et la tete, et la tete.— O, &c.

Alouette, gentille Alouette, Alouette, je te plumerai,
Je te plumerai le nez, je te plumerai le nez,
Et le nez, et le nez, et le bee, et le bee,
Et la tete, et la tete.— O, &c.

Alouette, gentille Alouette, Alouette, je te plumerai,

Je te plumerai le dos, je te plumerai le dos,

Et le dos, et le dos, et le nez, et le nez,

Et le bee, et le bee, et la tete, et la tete.— O, &c.

Alouette, gentille Alouette, Alouette, jete plumerai,
Je te plumerai les pattes, je te plumerai les pattes,
Et les pattes, et les pattes, et le dos, et le dos,
Et le nez, et le nez, et le bee, et le bee,
Et la tete, et la tete.— O, &c.

Alouette, gentille Alouette, Alouette, je te plumerai,

Je te plumerai le cou, je te plumerai le cou,

Et le cou, et le cou, et les pattes, et les pattes,

Et le dos, et le dos, et le nez, et le nez,

Et le bee, et le bee, et la tete, et la tete.— O, &c.

te plu-me-rai.

II

* Repeat this bar once for 2d. verse, twice for sd verse, etc.

142

CHANSONS CANADIENNES.

Malbrouck.

j\ r c f -n J- J

Mal-brouck s'en va-t- en guer - - re, Ri too tra la, ri

too tra la. Malbrouck s'en va-t- en guer - - re. Ne sail quand re-vie

A A .L hi

ac±

dra, la bas, Cou- rez, cou - rez, cou - rez ! Pe - ti - te fill' jeune et gei

«C!
A A A J

'il - le. Cou-rez, cou- rez, cou- rez! Ven - ez ce soir vous a - mu - ser

I reviendra-z-a Paques,
Ri too tra la, etc.,

II reviendra-z-a Piques,
Ou a la Trinite', la bas.

La Trinite' ce passe,
Ri too tra la, etc.,
La Trinite' ce passe,
Malbrouck ne revient pas, la bas.

Madame a sa tour monte,

Ri too tra la, etc.,
Madame a sa tour monte,
Si haut qu'ell' peut monter, la bas.

Elle apergoit son page,

Ri too tra la, etc.,
Elle apergoit son page,
Tout de noir habill£, la bas,

CHANSONS CANADIENNES.

143

:' Beau page, ah ! mon beau page,
Quell' nouvelle apportez? "

" Aux nouvell's que j'apporte,
Vos beaux yeux vont pleurer.

" Quittez vos habits roses,
Et vos satins broches.

" Monsieur Malbrouck est mort,
Est mort et enterre.

" J'l'ai vu porter en terre,
Par quatre-z-officiers."

C'est la belle Frangoise.

Cest la bel - le Fran- goise, Ion, gai, C'est la belle Fran-

qo\ - se Qui veut s'y ma-ri- er, ma hi- ron, lu- ret . te,

Qui veut s'y ma- ri- er, ma lu- rbn, lu- re'.

Son amant va la voire, Ion, gai,

Son amant va la voire

Bien tard, apres souper, ma luron, lurette,

Bien tard, apres souper, ma luron, lure.

II la trouva seulette, Ion, gai,

II la trouva seulette

Sur son lit, qui pleurait, ma luron, lurette,

Sur son lit, qui pleurait, ma lu.ron, lure.

144

CHANSONS CANADIENNES.

Mon Merle a Perdu Son Bee.

Mon merle a perdu sou bee, Mon merle a perdu sou bee. Un bee. deux bees Ah O
sa tete une tete deux tetes,

Que me vas tu chanter, O que me vas tu chanter ?

Mon merle a perdu sa tete,
Mon merle a perdu sa tete.
Une tete, deux tetes, un bee, deux bees, Ah, O, etc.

Mon Merle a perdu un ceil,

Mon Merle a perdu un ceih

Un ceil, deux yeux, une tete, deux tetes,

Un bee, deux bees, Ah, O, etc.

Mon merle a perdu son cou,

Mon merle a perdu son cou.

Un cou, deux cous, un ceil, deux yeux,

Une tete, deux tetes, un bee, deux bees, Ah, O, etc.

Mon merle a perdu son dos,

Mon merle a perdu son dos.

Un dos, deux dos, un cou, deux cous,

Un ceil, deux yeux, une tete, deux tetes,

Un bee, deux bees, Ah, 0, etc.

Mon merle a perdu une patte,

Mon merle a perdu une patte.

Une patte, deux pattes, un dos, deux dos,

Un cou, deux cous, un ceil, deux yeux,

Une tete, deux tetes, un bee, deux bees, Ah, O, etc.

* Repeat this bar once for 2d verse, twice for 3d verse, etc.

CHANSONS CANADIENNES.

145

Vive Napoleon.

Sung first as a solo to sign, then repeated as chorus.
From sign, sung first as a solo, then repeated as chorus.

Quand j'e-tais chez mon pe- re, Gai, vi- ve le

T*

I

roi! Quand j'e'-tais chez mon pe- re, Gai, vi- ve le

roi!

Pe- ti- te Jean- ne- ton, vi- ve le

roi de la rei- ne. Pe- ti- te Jeanne- ton,

Vi- ve Na- po- le- on !

M'envoi'-t-a la fontaine 1 , .

Gai, vive le roi ! I*
Petite Jeanneton, vive le roi de la reine.
Petite Jeanneton,
Vive Napoleon !

Pour pecher du poisson, ) .

Gai, vive le roi ! \ (

Petite Jeanneton, etc.

146 CHANSONS CANADIENNES.

La fontaine est profonde, ) „ . ,
Gai, vive le roi ! )•••-'

Petite Jeanneton, etc.

J'me suis coulee au fond, ) . .

Gai, vive le roi ! )

Petite Jeanneton, etc.

Par ici-t-il y passe
Gai, vive le roi !
Petite Jeanneton, etc.

Trois cavaliers barons, ) . ,

Gai, vive le roi ! »
Petite Jeanneton, <<?/£.

-Que donneriez-vous, belle, ) . .

Gai, vive le roi !
Petite Jeanneton, etc.

Qui vous tir'rait du fond ?

Gai, vive le roi !
Petite Jeanneton, etc.

-Tirez, tirez, dit-elle ( ,,. ^

Gai, vive le roi ! J (
Petite Jeanneton, etc.

Apres ga, nous verrons . . . , .

Gai, vive le roi !
Petite Jeanneton, etc.

Quand la bell' fut tire'e,

Gai, vive le roi !
Petite Jeanneton, etc.

S en fut & la maison,) '

^ • • i r (bis)

Gai, vive le roi !

Petite Jeanneton, etc.

part I
LANGUAGE— EDUCATION

LANGUAGE— EDUCATION

I HAVE often been asked if the French spoken here is
not a mere patois, which the ordinary student of French
could not be expected to understand. I am not a French
scholar, but I do not think that the language of the Cana-
dians differs greatly from that spoken by persons of the
same degree of education in France. Cultivated persons
use good, and ignorant persons use bad, French here as
well as there.

Aside from individual peculiarities there appears to me
to be less difference between the written and the spoken
language than might be expected. The formation of the
verbs tends, in a measure, to keep the variations within
certain limits. 1 know one man who always says, "Je
may aller" in the sense of " I am just going there ;" but
this is scarcely worse than " I am just going to go," often
heard both in Canada and the United States. But if the
same man wanted to say he was not going he would use
a correct form. Another colloquial form with the same
meaning, "May aller" (without the Je), is very common.
Both expressions are old corruptions from " Je vais y
aller."

Mr. E. Gagnon cites a delightfully incorrect expression—
" Esperef un instant, ma y aller quand et vous" mean-
ing, " Wait a moment and 1 will go along with you."
Espere^ (hope) is used here, as it very often is, in the
sense of attende^ (wait), and 1 have often wondered when
and how to hope should have come to be considered the
equivalent of to wait. " Quand et vous " is equally diffi-

150 LANGUAGE— EDUCATION.

cult to translate exactly. Perhaps a better rendering of
the whole phrase would be, " Wait a moment, I will go
there when you go," the idea being that two persons
would go together merely for companionship, whereas
avec vous (with you) might imply for aid, or for some
definite purpose.

In some of the parishes where the Acadians expelled
from Nova Scotia settled, there are many expressions not
found elsewhere, and the pronunciation is somewhat pecu-
liar. The speech of the people of the Eastern Townships
differs also from that of those on the north side of the St.
Lawrence. On the lower St. Lawrence many curious
forms and expressions are in common use. Perhaps this
may be accounted for in part by the fact that a regiment
of Highland Scotch troops, disbanded at Quebec, settled
along that shore. They inter-married with the Canadians
and no doubt interpolated into the French, that of necessity
became habitual to them, many English and some Gaelic
forms of speech. The words that they used were French,
but their idioms and constructions were foreign. Since
that time, however, some of these peculiarities have worn
away. It may be interesting to note in passing that there
are now to be found in that region many persons with dis-
tinctly Scotch names, and features which show evidence of
Scotch descent, yet who cannot speak a word of anything
but French.

Many English words have been incorporated into the
language ; especially, here as everywhere else, in connec-
tion with machinery and modes of communication. The
French people about here commonly say " railroad " and
" steamboat," but usually put a stress on the last word of
the compound, as if the expression were not quite natural
to the language, and quotation marks were implied.
The railway men say " switch," and I have even heard a

LANGUAGE— EDUCATION. 151

half-anglicized Canadian say" shunter" (English to shunt,
American to switch, a train or car). A man at work for
me once said that a certain person was "malaise a beater"
(hard to beat). When his attention was called to some
holes in the board he was using, he said "Je vais les plug-
ger " ( I am going to plug them up), although the common
French battre and boucber would have served equally well.
He took the words beat and plug, added " er," and used
'them as French, without any reason whatever.

The following will show how foreign words may find
their way into a language : At our fishing camp we use
many baked beans. Now the French for beans is feves,
but baked beans are called simply "beans." Our cook
will frequently ask if he is to " mettre tremper des feves
pour faire de beans" that is, put some beans in soak to
make some beans. So, baked beans will be beans in
French, while the unbaked article will continue to be
feves. I believe that the same use of the words prevails
in most of the lumbering camps.

Our habitant would not recognize potatoes as " pommes
de terre ;" he would call them palates, or more likely
patakes. He would not say froid for cold, but frette.
An expression that will strike a stranger as being rather
curious is one that sounds almost precisely like yank. It
is evolved from " rien que " (only) as in rien qu' un (only
one), rien que deux (only two), spoken as "yank un"
" yank deux" The hearer will quickly catch the speak-
er's meaning, but it will puzzle him to know what the
word is.

In spite of all these changes and variations (and a living
language, like any other living thing, is constantly under-
going change) 1 think the language holds its original
purity very well. A very intelligent Canadian lady, after
a considerable residence in France, told me that she found

152 LANGUAGE— EDUCATION.

the speech of the common people better here than there,
and that of the best Canadian speakers equal to that of the
best French.

The language brought here by the higher classes was
largely that of the French Court, and that brought by the
lower classes largely that of Normandy, which was good.
The number of professional men, officers, priests, lawyers,
notaries, and others, has always been extretnely large in
proportion to the population, and the modes of speech of '
so many educated persons must have had some influence
on the language of the rest.

The language of the common people may be rude and
ungrammatical, as might be expected, but it is not by any
means a patois. It may be more the French of two hun-
dred years ago than that of to-day, but it is still French,
and not bad French.

Most of the English residents here speak French more
or less. If their accents and grammar are generally incor-
rect, they use the language with readiness and fluency.
There are thousands of men who habitually do business in
either language, apparently without the slightest prefer-
ence. Children playing together often speak English to
one and French to another in the same breath. 1 have
often heard a child of five years talk English to its father
and French to the person at its side. In some households
the two languages are spoken indiscriminately, as any
trifling circumstance may turn the current of expression
into one form or the other.

The English of French speakers is generally less fluent
than the French of English speakers. There are very
few of either race who can speak the language of the other
with equal ease and elegance.

Among literary men there are many who have done
exceedingly good work in translating from one language

LANGUAGE— EDUCATION. 153

to the other, though not necessarily speaking both lan-
guages fluently. I know of nothing finer in the way of
translating English into French than Mr. Louis Frechette's
version of Mr. Howells' " A Chance Acquaintance," en-
titled " Un Rencontre." In translation of French into
English Prof. C. D. G. Roberts' rendering of " Les Anciens
Canadiens," entitled " The Canadians of Old," leaves little
to be desired. Another translation of the same book, by
Mrs. Pennee, is considered by some to be equally fine.

Formerly the education of the common people was
greatly neglected, if not positively discouraged. Within
twenty -five or thirty years I have heard it argued and seen
it claimed in a Canadian newspaper that general education
was neither necessary nor desirable. Since that time a great
change has taken place, and the school system of the Prov-
ince is now pronounced excellent. No child of the rising
generation, unless in some very remote settlement, can
have any excuse for not knowing at least how to read and
write. A school teacher of my acquaintance gives me the
following sketch of the organization of the educational
facilities in the Province. He refers of course to the
French schools :

" The Canadian schools are directed by a committee of
Public Instruction composed of the Bishop and Priests of
the Diocese of Quebec, having for its President at this
time the Hon. Gideon Ouimet, who acts as Superintendent
and oversees the working of all the schools of the
Province.

" The schools are divided into three principal classes :

" 1st. Academical Schools.

" 2d. Model Schools.

" 3d. Elementary Schools.

" The local [Provincial] Government gives annually to

154 LANGUAGE— EDUCATION.

each Model school a sum equal to two-thirds of the sum
received by the Secretary-Treasurer of each city or village,
for school purposes. (The proceeds of a special tax on
all tax payers.)

11 It pays also a certain sum besides for each Elementary
school, based on the number of children of school age.

" In each parish there is established a body of school
commissioners whose duty it is to build school houses and
establish schools in each arrondissement where there is
sufficient population. It is their duty also to engage teach-
ers and fix their salaries.

" In cities the salary of a Professor in an Academical
school is from four to five hundred dollars per year, of a
teacher in a Model school, from two to three hundred, and
in an Elementary school, from a hundred to a hundred and
fifty dollars. (In the country parishes the salaries of Model
and Elementary school teachers are considerably less.)

" The Professors in Academical schools are required to
teach the Greek, Latin, English, and French languages, the
histories of France, England, and the United States, draw-
ing, and bookkeeping by single and double entry.

" In the Model schools the French and English languages,
mental arithmetic, algebra, geometry, the histories of France
and England, the history of Canada, Sacred history and the
history of the Church, freehand drawing, composition, and
bookkeeping by single and double entry.

" In the Elementary schools education is commenced by
teaching the alphabet, a task very difficult and tiresome in
the career of the teacher. The spelling and putting together
of the words follows, then figures and the first ideas of
arithmetic. The teacher requires courage and perseverance
before his young pupils are able to tell him how much a
certain sum will amount to with interest compounded for
ten years.

LANGUAGE— EDUCATION. 155

" The average number of pupils for each teacher in a
village is from twenty to thirty.

" After ten years' service every teacher has the right to
draw from the Government, in case of sickness, one-fifth
of the average annual salary that he has received during
the time, for the whole term of his illness.

" After thirty-five years' service every teacher has the
right to a pension equal to the whole average annual sal-
ary that he has received. This pension continues during
his life, and if he dies leaving a widow she continues to
receive for her lifetime one-half of that sum.

" To be entitled to this pension, however, the teacher
must pay annually to the pension fund of the Government
two per cent, of his salary during his term of service.

" The special tax imposed on all holders of real estate
for school purposes cannot be less than live or more than
fifty cents per hundred dollars. Each head of a family
also pays for each child attending school not less than five
or over fifty cents per month. Books and articles neces-
sary for the pupils are furnished by the parents.

" The general and personal taxes are fixed by the school
commissioners, and collected by the Secretary -Treasurer of
the municipality. It is his duty also to instruct the com-
missioners as to their duties, to give notices of meetings of
the municipal council (which are usually held once a
month), and to be generally the organ of communication
between the municipal Government and the public."

In many of the larger parishes teachers are employed
from some one of several Brotherhoods, of which there are
various orders that devote themselves mainly or wholly
to teaching. They are employed very cheaply. In a
neighboring and quite large village all the boys are given
into the charge of four of these Brothers, who contract for

156 LANGUAGE — EDUCATION.

the whole for seven hundred dollars a year. The men
are provided with buildings by the municipality, but pay
all their own expenses. Three of them only are teachers,
the other being the cook and general servant. Being
bound to poverty they can work cheaply.

In that village there are no schools for girls except at
the convent. Day scholars pay fifty cents per month for
tuition. Boarders pay about five dollars per month.

In many parishes it is difficult to find a sufficient num-
ber of suitable persons who can read and write to act as
school commissioners. I have heard some amusing anec-
dotes of a commissioner's experience in that capacity. In
one case the little girls brought their copy books to show
their improvement in writing, when the poor man could not
tell whether the books were held right side or wrong side up.

The commissioners, however, swith the aid of the cure
and the Secretary -Treasurer, usually look well after their
business, and an inefficient commissioner would probably
find no more favor with his neighbors than a committee-
man of the same stamp in a New England village.

The trouble of course is that the great majority of
children leave school much too young, and soon forget all
they have learned. Two men in my employ, both young
and of fair capacity, who once attended school long enough
to learn to read, are now only able to study out simple
sentences with difficulty.

The girls derive, or at least retain, more advantage from
their school instruction than the boys. In the farmer's
family it is usually a daughter who keeps the accounts and
conducts the correspondence. When fresh from school or
convent she writes and expresses herself rather well, but
she too forgets, and is glad to give the pen and ink over
to her own daughter as soon as she has one old enough to
take charge of them.

LANGUAGE— EDUCATION. 157

It is hardly necessary to say that instruction is really
given in only a few of the somewhat formidable list of
subjects required of teachers in the Model schools. As
the schools are under the special supervision of the clergy,
a large part of the school hours is devoted to prayers and
religious exercises and the teaching of duties toward the
Church.

While a certain small amount of education is much
more general than formerly, there is no very noticeable
change in degree. There is one thing taught, however,
that is not in the curriculum, and that might be introduced
to advantage in many American schools, and that is good
manners. They are taught not only in the schools, but
everywhere else, and the lessons learned in childhood are
not forgotten in after life. Especially noticeable is the
respect of youth for age. Many other nations might well
learn from Canadians that politeness is not obsequiousness,
nor courtesy servility.

In parishes where there is a sufficient number of Protest-
ant tax payers they may dissent and establish separate
schools. If there are not more than three they can like-
wise dissent and pay their taxes to dissentient schools else-
where. School taxes of incorporated companies go to the
support of Roman Catholic schools. As comparatively
little time is given to religious exercises in the dissentient
schools — although they have always some such — they are,
as a rule, far more efficient as regards secular education
than the others.

A few facts indicate progress in the matter of education.

Our parish numbers about eighteen hundred souls,
and has not materially varied from that number in
thirty-five years, emigration having absorbed all the natu-
ral increase and a trifle more.

In 1861 the sale of stamps at the post office for the

21

158 LANGUAGE— EDUCATION.

three months of September, October, and November,
amounted to about eleven dollars. At present the sales
are from forty to forty -five dollars monthly.

In 1861 only five or six daily papers were received by
subscribers. Now thirty copies of dailies are distributed,
and eighteen weeklies. (1 refer to French papers only, and
I think my informant must have neglected to count some
semi-weekly and tri-weekly papers.)

There were then two French schools in the parish where
now there are six. The regular attendance is also larger.

We have, included in the above population, about one
hundred and fifty English speaking people, who support
two additional schools.

These figures show a great gain in the general intelli-
gence, but they are somewhat deceptive, after the manner
of statistics generally.

My reckoning would give (nearly) one French daily
paper to eleven families (of five persons each) in the parish.
But it happens that they are all received in the village,
which numbers at least sixty families, and of these six
persons (or families) receive not less than twelve, leaving
only eighteen dailies for the other fifty -four.

The weeklies give about one paper to every fifteen
families of the agricultural population.

I do not vouch for the entire exactness of my calcula-
tions, but they give a tolerably fair approximation. My
information is derived mainly from post office returns.
Emigration and certain local causes account largely for
the great increase in the sale of stamps.

part

CONVEYANCES

CONVEYANCES

THE modes of conveyance in Canada are as peculiar as
the rest of its adjuncts of civilization.

As a winter vehicle for common use on country roads
there is nothing that answers so well as the old-fashioned
cariole. It is neither handsome nor capacious, but can
stand work that
would wreck a
New England
sleigh very quick-
ly, and at the same
time is extremely
comfortable. It
sits low, on solid
wooden runners
about two inches
thick, to which the shafts are attached by rings some two
and a half inches in diameter, thus giving them a consider-
able amount of play, which is oftentimes a great advan-
tage. The traces of the harness are fastened directly to
the shafts, so that the draught comes where it is most im-
mediately needed. The arrangement is probably not so
easy for the horse as where whiffletrees are used. The
back of the cariole is high, protecting the passenger from
cold winds. When two seats are used the forward one is
a foot higher than the other and not more than four
inches wide. The driver is thus always ready to stand
up, or to throw his weight to one side of the vehicle or
the other, as occasion demands.

162

CONVEYANCES.

Well ensconced in furs, with a good horse and a good
driver (charretier— translated " charioteer " by one of my
friends) the passenger may settle himself in a cariole for a
long drive without anxiety. He need not concern himself
much about his driver, who will be a hardy person, well
wrapped up and accustomed to all weathers.

There is one good thing about travelling in Canada, and
that is that in almost every village of the slightest import-
ance there may be found in winter or summer from two
to half a dozen of these " charioteers " ready to drive the

traveller wherever
he wants to go,
and at very rea-
sonable prices.

The old fash-
ioned caleche has
entirely gone out
of use in this re-
gion, having been supplanted by the buckboard. In the
very hilly coun-
try east of Que-
bec it is still in
use. In the city
of Quebec also
many are em-
ployed as hack-
ney vehicles, and few tourists think their visit complete
without a ride in one of them.

The buckboard is in common use in the country. It is
not at all like the well-known Adirondack buckboard,
but is the simplest kind of a vehicle. The seat, which
is double (facing back and front), is placed in the mid-
dle of its length, and as the only spring comes from the
springiness of the boards, sometimes there is considerable

CONVEYANCES. 163

jolting ; but for regular travelling over rough roads it is
more useful and convenient than almost any other car-
riage.

In speaking of means of conveyance the snowshoe must
not be forgotten. Everybody knows what snowshoes are,
and not a few wonder how anybody can walk with them.
They are an embarrassment of course,
but less inconvenient than might be
supposed. On an unbroken sheet of
snow, two, three, or four feet deep the
snowshoe is a necessity. If the snow
is firm and hard the shoe will leave
only a slight track, but if the snow is
light and soft it will sink some inches,
although it will always find sufficient
support somewhere. The required
step is so different from an ordinary
walk that the movement is at first fatiguing, but one soon
becomes accustomed to it. It ought not to be supposed,
however, that snowshoes are an indispensable part of
every Canadian's ordinary foot-gear. Farmers and vil-
lagers who seldom go far into the woods or fields in winter
rarely make use of them.

For the snowshoe no substitute has ever been proposed.
The Norwegian ski would not answer at all well in this
country. A first-rate pair of snowshoes is a rare treasure.
If the rawhide netting is not well stretched and bags under
the foot when the snow is a bit soft or damp, it makes hard
work, and is a perpetual annoyance. If you get a pair
that is strong, light, and springy, take good care of them.
Dozens of plans tor fastening on the shoes have been con-
trived, but the practised snowshoer will have none of them.
He sticks to the old plan of fastening with leather thongs,
and will not bother with straps and buckles.

164 CONVEYANCES.

The three articles, the cariole, the snowshoe, and the
bark canoe, answer the purposes for which they are made
better than anything else yet invented. The bark canoe
can be equalled or surpassed in every respect but one, and
that is the convenience with which it can be repaired in case
of accident, with materials always at hand. With other
materials canoes may be built both stronger and lighter
in proportion to their carrying capacity, but they are
not so easily mended if they meet with a serious mishap.
With a piece of bark from the nearest birch tree, a bit
of gum, and the long slender root of the spruce, the ex-
perienced canoeman can repair almost any amount of
damage.

In country villages dogs were formerly often used for
drawing moderate loads, but nowadays their principal
occupation in that line is the amusement of the small boys,
who delight in harnessing them up and driving them. The

dogs, too, enjoy the
fun, and like a race as

wel1 as tneir y°un£
masters. A large dog

is quite a powerful
animal, and can draw
on a sled or toboggan,
if he has good footing,
fully as much as a
man. An Indian has been known to start out with his
team of four dogs harnessed tandem, drawing a load con-
sisting of a barrel of pork, two barrels of flour, some small
parcels and himself on top of all. Some may remember
when the usual manner of distributing milk to customers
in Quebec was from hand -carts managed by a woman who
held the shafts, aided by a dog harnessed to the axle-tree.
The use of dogs for such purposes is now forbidden in the

CONVEYANCES.

165

cities. An old friend who happened to see the drawing
from which the following cut was made remarked, " Yes,
that is just the way they used to steal my wood when 1
lived out on the Gomin road."

IPart

SOME NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS

SOME NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS

Many visitors to Canada are amused to see the out-of-
door ovens that are common all through the country.
They are much of the same size and nature as the old-
fashioned brick
ovens of New
England, but are
usually built of
clay and set on
posts or frame
work of timber
at a little distance
from buildings.
Commonly they have some kind of a roof over them.
They have no flues, the smoke of the fires for heating
escaping through the open doors.

Most of the people, when not too far away, buy their
bread from the bakers, but nearly all farmers have an
oven for occasional use. Some families make their own
bread for the sake of economy, although the baker's profits
are small and his bread is almost always good and whole-
some. Country shopkeepers keep bread on sale as surely
as a New England shopkeeper keeps flour. The loaves
weigh six pounds each, and are made from a flour that
does not dry and so crumble quickly. Warm bread is
almost never used, and pastry but little. Neither are
oatmeal or cornmeal cooked. I find my men in the woods
like oatmeal when I have it, but they would never think
of providing it for themselves. It is the same with baked

170 SOME NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS.

beans. The men are always fond of them, but I have
rarely known a Canadian family to cook them. In large
lumbering camps, however, of late years they are very
much used, although the favorite dish is still the tradi-
tional pea-soup.

While most of the people may be considered poor we
see but little positive suffering among them, and cases of
really grinding, degrading poverty are extremely rare. We
have no almshouses ; but aged or infirm persons or those
without friends to support them are sometimes cared for
in the hospitals. There are not many such, for as families
are large there is almost always some one able and willing
to furnish subsistence to an unfortunate relative, and the
people generally are helpful to each other. There is no
immigration into the Province, and there are, therefore,
no friendless or helpless foreigners to be supported at the
public expense. If one of the poor of the parish meets
with special misfortune by fire or accident, so that he is
really in distress, a couple of his neighbors will often ap-
point themselves a committee to go about and collect sup-
plies for his benefit, and rarely return without their sleigh
well filled with provisions.

Beggars, duly provided with certificates from their cure's
that they are worthy objects of charity, are not infrequent,
and seem to consider themselves a privileged class. They
go about from house to house — opening any door without
knocking — asking for charity "pour I' amour du bon
Dieu" and going on to dilate on their claims to benevo-
lence, to which no one pays any attention. The house-
wife goes in search of the one cent which is the usual
amount given, and if she finds nothing less than a five or
a ten cent piece she coolly asks the beggar to change it for
her, which he is usually able to do. Many of these beg-

SOME NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS. 171

gars have certain routes that they follow, and make their
turns at regular intervals.

That Canadians are kind hearted is shown by this treat-
ment of their poor, and their hospitality is well known.
From the highest to the lowest the acquaintance or the
stranger who comes to their doors is welcomed to the best
the house can afford. If they were not gay and light
hearted they would not be French, although the manifes-
tations of their gayety are perhaps tempered by climate
and other conditions.

Polite they are, almost invariably to strangers, and gen-
erally among themselves. In all the writer's experience
among them he has never, whether in city, country, or in
the woods, met with anything but courtesy, and has rarely
witnessed unaccountable rudeness. Only under the excite-
ment of drink are serious quarrels common. One way
they may be considered quarrelsome, but their quarrels are
such as result in law suits rather than in bodily injuries.
They seem to be very fond of going to law. They are
somewhat free in accusing each other of tricks and dis-
honest dealings in small affairs, to which they may be
somewhat inclined, though possibly not more so than
some other nationalities. A cord of wood will not inva-
riably be of full measure here any more than is a ton of
coal or of ice always of full weight in New York. The
maple sugar that I receive for rents of trees is not always
the best that the man makes, or free from an admixture
of flour or other foreign substance ; but neither do we
always find elsewhere that the worst apples are on the top
of the barrel, or that the quart box of strawberries is cer-
tain to hold two pints. There are rogues in all countries.
On the whole, the honest habitant in Canada is probably
equally as honest as the honest farmer elsewhere.

I have been told that the most ingenious tricks in the

172 SOME NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS.

way of petty cheating are those played or attempted by
jobbers of logs in the woods in trying to pass off poor
logs as good ones. Some that I have heard of were really
masterpieces of trickery. The culler, if he knows his
business, is always on the watch for them, and is fairly
sure to find them out ; and the curious part of it is that
the jobber is not in the least ashamed when his trick is
detected.

Although comparatively few of the men are total ab-
stainers, yet drunkenness is not so general that it can be
considered to be a national vice. In almost every village
there will most likely be some more or less given to
drink, but the great majority are altogether temperate,
taking a glass or two occasionally, but never drinking to
excess. Licenses are required for the sale of intoxicating
liquors, and in most country parishes none are granted. In
some places where there is a good deal of travel an inn-
keeper may be licensed to sell to guests but not to the
public. This does not prove, however, that at special occa-
sions,— New Year's visits, heated elections, and the like, —
liquors are not important features.

The people are mainly industrious, but to a New Eng-
lander would not seem to be hard worked. Mechanics do
not try to turn out the most and the best work possible,
but only enough to live on, and just a little more if the
chance comes. Their habits being simple and their living
cheap, they are satisfied with little, and social ambitions
do not trouble them much. The ambitious youth goes
to the cities, where he aspires to be a notary, a lawyer, a
politician, or, best of all, because safest and not usually
demanding arduous exertions, a Government employe. If
he goes into mercantile life he generally manages to hold a
fair position, and some of the largest and best of the com-
mercial houses in Quebec are entirely Canadian ; but heavy

SOME NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS. 173

corporate enterprises are generally controlled by other
nationalities.

I have alluded in Part VIII to the emigration to the
" States " as a common method among young and enter-
prising men and women of bettering their condition.
This emigration became so common as to alarm the
Government, and a few years ago strong efforts were made
to induce the re-patriation of emigrants. These have
lately abated, and there would seem to be no occasion for
them. As the French population regularly doubles in less
than thirty years, it would seem to be a sufficient problem
to provide for the increase. Where some two and a half
millions of people in 1920 and five millions in 1950 are to
find homes in this province, is not quite clear. There is
land enough for them all, but only a small proportion of
it is desirable. The farming here is only poorly remuner-
ative at best. Diversified occupations and industries will
absorb a good many, but it looks as if emigration would
need to continue to be large.

That a hardy, temperate, prudent, and fairly industrious
people should not, even if not particularly energetic or
ambitious, have made some progress, could hardly be pos-
sible. Those who knew the Canadian people forty or fifty
years ago will easily see a difference now.

My personal intercourse with the people began in my
boyhood, and for the last ten years 1 have lived almost en-
tirely among them. I have always found them civil, oblig-
ing, and excellent neighbors. I could (and did) heartily
join with an English speaking Canadian friend who
summed up a discussion of their qualities by saying they
were " not a bad lot."

1 am not blind to some defects in the national charac-
ter ; but neither, I hope, do I fail to recognize their many
good qualities. | would rather write pages about these
13

174 SOME NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS.

than give a single line of ungracious criticism to a people
among whom I have found so many friends, and been so
kindly treated.

Some Americans seem to have the idea that the French
Canadians still have an attachment to France and are not
loyal to Great Britain. This is a mistake. It is true that
the loyalty of the common people is of rather a neutral
character and perhaps would not stand a great strain, but
they have no attachment to France beyond that almost
inseparable from a common race, language, and religion.
As individuals they seem rather to dislike the French when
brought into contact with them. Our good Nazaire, who
is not at all a bad type of the Canadian habitant, cordially
detests them, as do many others whom I have met.

The Canadians have no reason for disloyalty to Britain.
All their rights have been well respected, and they have
received their full share — many Englishmen think far too
large a share— of honors and favors from the Crown.
Provincial politicians sometimes think or pretend to think
otherwise, but their claims are probably put forward mainly
with the hope of securing some personal popularity among
their compatriots. It is only fair to say that the people
generally pay comparatively little attention to these pol-
iticians. They know there is little or nothing of which
they can reasonably complain, and they are quite well con-
tented under British rule, and appreciate the advantages
they derive from it. They do not like the Englishman
any more than do other conquered races, but they get
along very well with him and try to get all they can out
of him.

The general sentiment was quite well expressed in the
reply of a priest to an English lady who wished to know
the feelings of the clergy towards the British Govern-

SOME NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS. 175

ment : " We are quite well satisfied so long as you let us
alone."

A trifling circumstance may give an idea how little some
of the people know or care about their British connection.
I told an employe that I expected certain visitors on the
Queen's Birthday (La fete de la Reine} . He replied :
" La fete de la Reine, c'est la 4 Juillet, n'est-ce pas?"
(The Queen's Birthday, that is the 4th of July, is it not ?)
He was not less intelligent than three quarters of the men
of his class, although it is probable that the majority would
know that the two dates were not the same. But few,
however, would know why the 1st of July (Dominion
Day) is a Canadian festival, and very few indeed know
why Americans celebrate the 4th of July. Official efforts
to make the people look upon Dominion Day as an im-
portant point in their history entirely fail of effect with
the people in general.

Of annexation sentiment there is little worth mention-
ing. Most of the people think Canada would be more
prosperous under the United States Government, but the
feeling is not strong enough to make them seek to disturb
the existing order of things.

Part I1HF1T

A WINTER EXCURSION

A WINTER EXCURSION

MY brother and I have a commodious fishing camp or
lodge on the shore of Lake Clair, already mentioned, to
which we often make excursions. Though these visits are
not properly Canadian Life, yet it is largely through them
that we have come into close contact with our habitant
friends. I therefore make no apologies for including in
this volume the story of one of my first excursions to our
camp with my family. The cabin was then a small and
simple affair, but has since grown considerably, responding
to the constantly increasing demands of our friends.

After one of my visits to the lake 1 said at home that
the next time I went 1 would take my little girls along.
They had already been on a camping expedition with me
the previous autumn, and well remembered its delights.

The novelty of camping in winter pleased them, and
they were ready to try it. I began to attempt to back out
of my agreement, but it was too late. I was compelled to
admit that there were no insurmountable obstacles in the
way. The lumbermen had opened roads by which we
could drive to the very door of the cabin. This was a round-
about way, but there was a much shorter one, though part
must be done on foot. The girls were not afraid of snow-
shoes, however ; they had been amusing themselves with
them for weeks. Moreover, they were young, fresh, and
vigorous. The prospect of a long walk did not disturb them
in the least. Of course I gave way, and their mother,
whose joining the expedition was quite out of the ques-
tion, did the same.

We decided on the shorter route for ourselves and the

180

A WINTER EXCURSION.

longer one for the baggage and provisions. While we
were making preparations there came on a heavy thaw.
Soft weather in the month of January, with torrents of
rain and occasional thunder-storms, lasted nearly a week.
Such a time was never known in the country before.
The ice gorged in many places, and the rivers overflowed

their banks for miles. Some houses were half under
water, and people went about in boats.

Of course we waited for cold weather, and in good time
it came. When at length we were ready to start we did
not complain of the cold, although the thermometer stood
at ten below zero. We dress and prepare for cold weather,
and it must be very cold indeed to prevent us from going
about. In fact, we experience less discomfort from twenty
or even forty degrees below freezing than from one of our
New England northeasterly storms, when the thermometer
is scarcely at the freezing point. Snow-storms one expects
and does not mind them much unless they are extremely
severe and with high winds. Once in a while, however, one
comes that blocks up everything for days together.

A WINTER EXCURSION. 181

Our delay had given so much time to talk of our excur-
sion, that several of our friends accepted our invitation to
visit us at the camp. We promised to accommodate them
all, if they would not come too many at once. We could
offer a nice bed to each of six persons, but beyond that,
age, sex, and condition might interfere with convenient
lodging. The little girls proposed to sleep two in a bed,
and even larger ones offered to submit to the same incon-
venience rather than not go.

It was strange how the idea of a winter camping party
fascinated them. Soon the question came to be, not who
should go, but who would be obliged to stay at home.

I decided to take along my little camp-stove and my
faithful old double tent that had never failed to give me
all the room I wanted. Not too large for two or too
small for six — he who is not happy in it is not a woods-
man, and I do not want him with me.

A tent in mid-winter, especially for a sleeping apartment,
does not sound attractive ; but with my little stove it was en-
tirely comfortable, and proved a popular resort when we had
need of it. As it happened, the children and young girls
packed themselves so closely in the beds, that, as a rule,
only the guides were finally obliged sometimes to sleep in
it ; but there would have been no hardship in it for any one.
Day and evening it was a favorite.lounging-place for all
hands.

So, after the rain had ceased, and after we had had
two days and nights of good solid zero weather, the girls
and I started off in two carioles, with many expressions of
surprise at the hardihood of our undertaking, and many
doubting wishes for a " bon voyage " from the neighbors.

Such an expedition was not at all in accordance with
the notions of the French people. Aside from the care-
fully encouraged view that the holidays of the Church

igi A WINTER EXCURSION.

offer sufficient recreation, and that none that the Church
does not take the leading part in are desirable, there might
seem something like impropriety in a party of young and
old, male and female, going away by themselves on a
camping expedition. Such a thing was never known in
our parish. The nearest thing to it was perhaps that in
the time of making maple sugar, a party might be made
up to visit a sugar camp for a day. True, my original
party was only my own family, but our visitors promised
to be of various families and ages. We cared little for
the Canadian ideas, for we had been accustomed to
do as we pleased among the people without asking
whether they liked it or not. Americans ourselves, we
had issued our Declaration of Independence, and lived
up to it. 1 am not aware that we ever did anything to
which they could object, but we paid so little regard
to their customs, that I suspect that they always felt a
little uncertainty as to what we might be going to do
next.

The first stage of our journey was a drive of nine miles.
The roads were not good, but were frozen hard, and the
carioles stood them well. We made the distance without
accident and within an hour, scarcely realizing whether it
was cold or not. We did manage to strike a " bailee"
which nearly tore the sleeve out of the fur coat of one of
the girls, but the arm in it was so small that no harm was
done.

As soon as the snow becomes deep the roads must be
" balized," or after a heavy snow-fall the poor horses
would be unable to find them. The narrow track is
marked out with branches or saplings, with turn-outs,
also " balized," at convenient distances. As the drifting
snow completely fills up the road, there is nothing else to

A WINTER EXCURSION. 13

distinguish it from the soft snow on either side of it.
Roads, ditches, and fields are all on the same level.

As long as the horse feels the hard track under his feet
he will trot quietly along, even if there is no outward and
visible sign of it. If another vehicle is met where no
turn-out is marked it is not easy to induce him to leave
the path. The experienced animal, when compelled to it,
will step off as gently as possible, making no struggle,
but waiting peaceably until the other sleigh has passed.
Then, perhaps, he will throw himself back on his haunches,
raise both fore feet together, and bring them back into
the road again.

The shantymen's horses, on roads where there is not
much passing, learn to put their feet into the tracks made
by their predecessors. Consequently, although the sleigh
track may be very good, your horse can take no longer
steps and go no faster than the one that first opened the
road. Everywhere else he would sink deep into the snow.

At the end of our drive the faithful Nazaire met us,
and taking our extra wraps in a skilfully made up pack
on his strong and willing shoulders, led the way to our
next post. It was up a river, on snow and ice, but the
frozen crust was not strong enough to bear our weight,
and snowshoes were called into use. We knew the current
was very strong and the ice would be thin at best. It would
hold under a broad snowshoe, but the
unshod foot would be liable to break
through. On the swift rivers the
merest film of ice serves to support
enough snow to conceal its treacher-
ous nature. With the aid of snow-
shoes progress was easy, when with-
out them it would have been im-
possible.

lg4 A WINTER EXCURSION.

The distance we had to go was vaguely described as
" trentaine d'arpents" (about thirty arpents). If I had
been told it was a "good piece," I should have had quite
as good an idea, for I have found the Canadian's " tren-
taine d'arpents " a most indefinite measure. The arpent
is a measure both of length and superficies, its length
being equal to 180 French or 192 English feet. We
reckon twenty -eight of them to a mile. Of late years
the Government has made all its surveys in English
acres, which, surveyors tell me, is far the most convenient
measure, as it divides better into fractions ; but formerly
the arpent was universally used. One of my girls in-
sisted that thirty arpents meant three miles, while another
declared they meant four. The distance was really about
a mile and a half, and we made it without a break, al-
though the girls were glad of a rest at the end of the road.
Our stop was made at a " rollway," or place where the
logs are piled ready for the drive in the spring. Several
acres of ground were covered with them, the result of the
winter's work.

From here we turned into an almost unbroken forest.
Logs had been made there for many years, but to the un-
practised eye the aspect of the ground was just what it
had been from time immemorial. Some stumps may be
seen, but the mere passer-by would hardly know that man
had ever passed that way. Following up the " maltre
chemin" or main road of the lumbermen, we found it
smooth, firm, and in beautiful order, as all these roads
should be, for the loads to be drawn are heavy. A good
deal of engineering ingenuity is often displayed in locat-
ing the lumber roads, for there must be no up grades, and
in such a hilly country as this it is not easy to avoid them ;
and a long detour is frequently necessary in order to avoid
even a slight rise. On this " maltre cbemin " we carried

A WINTER EXCURSION. 185

our snowshoes on our backs, where they seemed much
lighter than they had done on our feet. The way was up,
up, up, all up hill for an hour and a half, up the hills that
the logs had come down.

We reached the lumbermen's camp just as the men had
finished dinner, and great was their astonishment at seeing
these three girls away there in the woods on a holiday
excursion, in winter. The Canadians are almost invariably
polite and respectful, but if those girls were stared at it is
no wonder. Nazaire and I were well known to the fore-
man of the camp, and we received every possible courtesy.
We were cordially invited to dine, but although the girls
were glad of rest and shelter, they could not manage the
pea soup, which indeed looked as if a strong stomach
would be needed to digest it. Nazaire and I, however,
made a hearty meal without hesitation.

Our way lay only a little farther on the lumbermen's
roads and then we put on the snowshoes again. It was still
up hill, and soon my little barometer said we were four-
teen hundred feet above our starting point. The after-
noon was delightful, a most perfect winter's day ; cold,
but not too cold, as indeed it seldom is too cold in the
woods for walking. The lights and the shadows of the
trunks and branches on the white snow were charming,
and many were the expressions of delight and surprise
that I heard from the girls behind me, as we wound our
way, Indian file, in and out among the trees. Nazaire led
and I followed, to beat a good track for the others. He
was supremely happy at hearing the girls' cheerful voices,
and often turned his pleased face round to me with the
exclamation, " Qu'elles sont hetireuses!" (How happy
they are ! )

After half an hour's walk up hill we began to go down,
and faster than we had gone up. The girls got many

186

A WINTER EXCURSION.

tumbles, but they were dressed for them, and a little fall
in soft snow hurts nobody. They already had had a
long walk, but were not so tired that their lively chatter
was checked, or the delights of the way were lessened. Still
to the unpractised eye there was no sign that man had ever
passed that way, and for part of the distance none but

hunters and explorers prob-
ably ever had passed. The
loggers had not reached that
region, and nobody else had
any business there. We were
opening a new path to our
camp, shaping our way by
the lay of the land and the
direction of the streams.
Nazaire knew all about these,
and where he goes I follow
without hesitation. This time
I knew we could not go far
wrong, for we had only to
cross the divide that sepa-
rates two systems of water-
courses, and the distance was
not great. It was to avail ourselves of newly opened roads
that we were taking this way to our camp, as well as to
avoid the " dos de cheval" or " horse-back," — a narrow
ridge, scarcely wide enough for a single footpath, with
deep and broken gullies on either side, and in many places
steep and hard to climb, as my legs found out when they
were a good deal younger than they are now.

Not very far from the top of the divide we came to a
"petit lac rond" (little round lake), round as if drawn
with a compass. Our footpath had always led us across
this lake, but reaching it from another direction when

A WINTER EXCURSION. 18?

coming by the " dos de cheval" It is only a bit of a lake
almost on the top of the hill, but what a lake it is for
trout ! We had no sooner crossed the Round Lake than we
began to go down again. We could hear the pretty little
stream, the outlet of the lake, rippling and murmuring
under its. coating of snow, and telling us the way to Lake
Clair. In a few minutes more we could see, across the lake,
the smoke from our cabin. But here was the hardest
part of our journey. There was a strong wind sweeping
down the whole length of the lake, and the entire surface
was covered with smooth ice, with here and there patches
of snow. That wind had to be faced. Cheeks and noses
suffered somewhat, but there were no frost bites, and in a
short time the doors of our cabin opened to us.

1 he only other gentleman of all those who had prom-
ised to visit us who was able to come at that time, was a
somewhat heavy man, who had then no liking for snow-
shoes. (Later in the season, however, 1 found that he was
taking lessons in using both snowshoes and toboggan with
a good deal of enthusiasm, and that one of our fellow-
boarders often came late to her supper. But that has
nothing to do with this story.) He had come by the long,
tedious, and roundabout way by which he could reach the
cabin without walking, and brought with him all the good
things we had provided for our excursion, so that we were
not anxious about our supper. Owing to our long delays
at the lumbermen's camp and elsewhere he had arrived
before us; but he had nothing to tell about charming
walks through woods, dinners at logging camps, or of
rushing, invisible streams. He had only sat still in his
" berline " (pung) and had seen nothing.

The cabin was new, clean, and warm, and the luxurious
beds of fir branches smelled deliciously. The delight of
the children knew no bounds. " Why, it smells just like

188 A WINTER EXCURSION.

Christmas," said the little one, as the sweet fragrance
reminded her of our Christmas tree. " Aren't we glad
we came ! " and " Is n't this just splendid ! " were among
the remarks they made, mingled with thanks to me for
bringing them, which were more than I deserved, for I had
counted on enjoying their enjoyment. The two small ones
speedily appropriated a bed for themselves, and the larger
one another, and they luxuriated on the springy boughs.

Some trout had been caught for us by the guardian of
the camp, and the good Nazaire set about cleaning and
cooking them as if long walks and heavy packs were things
he had never heard of. The fish were excellent, and it
required a goodly number to satisfy our appetites. The
trout of Lake Clair are not large, although their delicious
flavor is proverbial. Their average weight is about three-
quarters of a pound, while the trout of the Round Lake
run to one and a half pounds, and those of Lake Croche,
another lake near by, to fully two pounds. Some good
fishermen say that a three-quarter pound trout of Lake
Clair gives as good sport as two-pound trout elsewhere.
They are strong and active, colors bright, and flesh firm and
red. Cooked by Nazaire they are certainly delicious eating.

All hands were more or less fatigued, and bedtime came
early. Screens of blankets made a dressing-room, with
all the privacy of a Pullman sleeping car at the least.
Later on, when we had more company, including several
young ladies, the men retired to the tent while toilets
were being made, but this time the blankets had to suffice.
When the children announced themselves ready I removed
some of the screens, and the men tumbled into their berths
very much as they stood. For this night Nazaire was
commissioned to look after the heating apparatus, and he
did it most effectually. How he and Simeon managed to
sleep in the places allotted to them, on the floor near

A WINTER EXCURSION.

the stove, I cannot tell. Even we who had the most com-
fortable places were almost roasted until I got up and
opened the door and dampened the fire. And this with a
thermometer at twenty degrees below zero ! If any one
had feared we should suffer from cold he should have
been in our cabin that night ; in fact we suffered much
more from heat than from cold all through our excursion.
Poor Nazaire was often called from his bed with " Ob !
Nazaire, il fait cbaud, c'est terrible " (it is terribly hot).
Even the smallest girl, who knew scarcely any French at
all, soon learned to say, " Trop chaud, Nazaire, trop
cbaud " (too hot, Nazaire, too hot).

At length he began to learn that we were not all such
salamanders as himself. This time the little ones slept
like tops, and so did I after the cabin got cooled down a
little. That Nazaire slept there could be no doubt. When
he goes to sleep he usually announces the fact.

Going to bed early involves being up betimes, and be-
fore six the next morning Nazaire had the kettle boiling,
and coffee was served all round preparatory to breakfast.
Toilets made, all hands hurried their breakfasts of bread
and bacon in order to go fishing, for they could have no
more trout until some were caught. One of the girls,
however, who had brought her skates, found the smooth
ice too tempting, and soon deserted us. She afterwards
caught more trout than any of the others, but this day the
youngest of all was champion, as she was the most patient
and enthusiastic of fishers. In the afternoon she kept at
it until the sun went down, and her trim little figure out
on that waste of ice and snow made a striking picture, set
in a frame of dark, wooded hills, and seen in the glow of
one of our most brilliant sunsets. Some of our winter
sunsets in Canada are truly magnificent. An artist friend
who visitecj us grew enthusiastic, over them. He had seen

190 A WINTER EXCURSION.

few more beautiful, even in Italy. He went into raptures
over the absolute purity of the atmosphere and its won-
derful clearness.

Our cabin was located for a view of those sunsets both
in summer and winter. Built on the water's edge and
facing exactly south as it does, there are two rounded hills
nearly in front of it whose tree- tops catch the earliest rays
of the morning sun, while the camp itself is in shadow,
and the long point on our left throws its shade over half
the lake until the sun is quite high. We have streaks of
light over the water in summer and over the snow in win-
ter that are very beautiful. The contour of the lake is
extremely irregular, so that the light is constantly changing
as the sun falls first on one and then on another hill or
cliff. We never tire of sitting in front of our cabin and
watching it.

When a thunderstorm comes up in summer the sight
is superb. Once Nazaire and I got caught in one. We
were out in a canoe when we saw it coming, and although
we paddled as hard as we could, it burst on us before
we were half way across the lake. I never knew it to
rain harder. We were drenched through in two minutes.
After that we sat still, paddling along easily and enjoying
the scene. It did not matter how hard it rained, we could
not get any wetter. There was no wind at all, but the
whole surface of the lake, as far as we could see, was one
great splash, so hard did the big drops come down. It
was grand to hear the peals of thunder crashing and echo-
ing from the hills and cliffs.

But we must return to our winter trip. The little girl
continued fishing till we were obliged to call her in. It
looked cold out there, while indoors the cabin was warm
and cozy, the trout were sizzling in the frying pan,
the coffee steaming in the coffee pot.

A WINTER EXCURSION. 191

Fishing through ice is no sport to your true fisherman,
although it has some interest when the fish are to form a
considerable item of your daily food. Trout fishing in
summer is another thing. Then there is no sport more
delightful, whether you try with all your skill to throw a
carefully selected fly under the branches that overhang a
shady pool where you feel sure some beauty is lying, not
very hungry but liable to be tempted by a dainty morsel ;
or whether in the early morning you push your canoe out
into the placid
lake that the sun,
just beginning to
gild the tree-tops,
has not yet
touched, to invite
some of those
lively fellows that
you see jumping and sporting just beyond you to come
in to your breakfast table ; or whether in the afternoon
you stand on some jutting rock, reached with difficulty,
among fierce rapids, and do battle with some noble fish
that will test all your tackle and all your skill. In all
these is sport. But in winter there is nothing of them ;
no sharp rush, no bended rod, no strained line. The fish
bite lazily and are pulled up easily. If you have a bit of
the sportsman in you, you will only take what you need
to eat.

What with fishing, skating, sliding, cooking, and eating,
our first day passed quickly. In the evening we played
casino, the simple and popular game of cards with the
French Canadians. The children played with Nazaire and
Simeon, and the mixture of languages was as picturesque to
hear as the light of our one candle on their faces was to see.
The purely accidental effect was almost Rembrandtesque.

192 A WINTER EXCURSION.

The girls could speak but little French and the men no
English ; but they made themselves understood, and the
games were merry.

Next morning we were surprised to find it blowing a
gale. The gorgeous sunset of the night before had given
us no warning of the storm, although Nazaire had ex-
pressed the opinion that the weather was too fine to last.
It snowed more or less all day, but the girls fished all the
same ; and, boisterous as it was, they caught seventy-one
fine trout, so we had no fear of a famine.

John's leave of absence expired the next day and he
was obliged to leave us. We escorted him part way back
and then left him to Nazaire, to be shown the way to a
place where a carter with his cariole had been directed to
meet him. Nazaire undertook to lead him by a short cut
down a very steep place, and he got some rare tumbles, be-
ing a heavy man and not used to snowshoes. Nazaire said he
was sometimes compelled to stand still and roar at John's
flounderings. He left with Nazaire a challenge to some
ladies to come down by the same route. Two of them
accepted it, and probably have not forgotten their expe-
rience. This day we set up our tent for the extra accom-
modation, as well as for the cooking, which sometimes
made the cabin too hot for us. We tramped the snow
down hard with our snowshoes, pitched the tent, set up
our little stove, spread branches a foot thick, and made
everybody comfortable. -

The first visitor to arrive was the surveyor. He was
capital company, full of interesting anecdotes and experi-
ences. He had worked in Canadian woods all his life, he
said, but this was his first surveying party " with picnic at-
tachment." He seemed to enjoy the variety. It was amusing
to hear him tell a story, addressing himself first to Nazaire

A WINTER EXCURSION. 19J

in French and then continuing to the rest of us in English,
without stopping to interpret.

He had passed through many dangers and hardships,
but the most serious of all was a time when with his whole
party he was in danger of starvation.

On their return from a long trip they found that the
cache where their provisions were hidden had been found
by a carcajon (wolverine), and that everything was de-
stroyed. They struggled along on short rations for a few
days, but some of the men grew weak, and progress was
slow. It was evident that something must be risked or
all would perish. My friend and one of the Indians took
nearly all the remaining provisions, amounting to three
biscuits each, and started for the nearest house, one hun-
dred miles away. They reached it just at evening of the
third day. The surveyor kicked off his snowshoes at the
door, threw himself on a bed, and slept sixteen hours.
When he waked, the Indian had already started back,
with all the provisions he could carry. He found the men
just able to drag themselves to a stream for water, and that
was all ; but the supply of food revived them, and they
reached the settlement in safety.

After the storm already mentioned the weather grew
very cold, ranging mostly from ten to twenty degrees
below zero, and for several days the thermometer did not
rise above zero at any time. Our lowest record was
thirty-eight below. The surveyor, Nazaire, and I did what
we had to do, and the girls amused themselves in the
cabin. They were perfectly happy and contented, but
grew tired of fishing. There was much jollity when we
came back to the cabin at night. Simeon was left in
charge during the day to bring wood and water, cut holes
in the ice, work about the camp, and see that no accident
befell the children.

194 A WINTER EXCURSION.

The surveyor left us, and other visitors came thick and
fast in his place : first, two young ladies, sisters, and their
two brothers; then our artistic friend and his equally
artistic wife, and other relatives and friends of our guests
and ourselves, until the whole extent of our accommoda-
tions was required. There was no dulness in our camp.
So many young people, all relatives or intimately ac-
quainted, and all cheerful and agreeable, could not fail to
find amusement. There were visits to neighboring lumber
camps, snowshoe races, and other entertainments, notably
once a three-legged race in deep snow.

If one wants a jolly good laugh let him get some of his
friends to try a three-legged race in two and a half feet of
snow. But I would not advise him to try one himself,
unless he is young and strong. General hilarity prevailed
in the short intervals between eating and sleeping times.
As for cooking times, 1 think there were no intervals. The
ladies took that department out of Nazaire's hands and
kept it in constant, if irregular, operation. A little stirring
of soup followed by the practising of a dance, songs sung
between washing the spoons and cleaning the knives, and
other little fancies such as light-hearted girls might indulge
in, took up their time, and they were happy. We older
people read, wrote, talked, or looked on as we felt inclined.
There was no ennui. It never came near Lake Clair to
my knowledge, although Nazaire and I have spent many
days there quite alone.

Of music there was no lack. Our man Simeon proved
to be a capital singer as well as a violinist. His was not
the ordinary voice of the Canadian woodsman, a mere
head-tone used at a very high pitch, but a real baritone,
and used in a manner that one of our visitors, who ought
to know, said would not disgrace a city concert- room.
How he came by such a style I cannot tell. He never

A WINTER EXCURSION. 195

could have heard a really first-class singer in his life. It
was one of those things that, like reading and writing,
" come by nature."

He gave us such fine songs as " Le drapeau de Caril-
lion" " Le Zouave en Algerie" and many others not less
worthy.

Singularly enough, he was not well acquainted with the
words of the common popular songs mentioned elsewhere,
such as "A la claire fontaine," and the like, that almost
every one knows, so we got none of them from him. We
had a variety of these, however, one evening a little later,
sung in true lumberman fashion, high and loud, without
the least expression, by an accidental visitor to whom we
gave shelter.

Some of the ladies also were singers, and their con-
tributions ranged all the way from the most absurd college
songs to " Lascia cV io pianga " and Reinecke's " Walde-
gruss," very prettily sung.

Our guests having almost all departed, my little girls
went home one day by the long route, leaving two young
ladies to go with me by the short cut that John had chal-
lenged them to follow. Nazaire took our extra wraps
and went on ahead. As we crossed the lake and looked
back at our deserted cabin I am not sure but one of the
girls shed a few quiet tears, thinking of the pleasant week
she had passed, and that she was not likely ever to see
the place again. At any rate both of them walked on
some time in silence, and I heard none of the accustomed
cheerful laughter and girlish chaff, usually so plentiful
between those two. Many parties have visited our camp
since then, but I think none have enjoyed so much pure
and unalloyed pleasure as this first party of all.

But Nazaire was far ahead, and we were obliged to
follow. When we came to the place where the path

196 A WINTER EXCURSION.

diverges there was a discussion as to whether we should
accept our friend John's challenge to go down by the
way he went, or take the longer and less interesting road
around the side of the hill. Of course the discussion re-
sulted in acceptance, for the girls declared that if John
could go down so could they. Nazaire was waiting for
us and assured us that there was no positive danger,
although the way was " bien, bien a pic " (very, very
steep).

He had already been down with his pack and come
back by the road. We rested a little and then followed
him. It was " bien, bien a pic," sure enough. I myself was
the first to come to grief. Trying to get over some fallen
timber 1 made a misstep and pitched headlong. Head
and arms went deep into the soft snow, and heels high
into the air, with the snowshoes dangling. My cap and
whatever 1 had in my hands went away down the hill.
In such a position one flounders about a good deal before
he can get his feet under him ; but one of the girls man-
aged to climb down and lend a hand towards helping
me up.

We all reached the foot of the hill in safety, and after
discussing and rejecting a proposition to go back and try
the descent again, we went on. Nazaire assured us we
had tumbled much less than John, which was a satisfac-
tion ; but John will not believe it to this day. Anyway,
if he got a worse tumble than I, it was a lively fall.

From there to the],bank of the river was an excellent
road, and nearly all down hill. We passed the lumber-
men's camp without stopping ; but we were quite willing to
stop and rest again by the logs, as we had done going up.
The place was quite exposed and rather cold, so we walked
on down the river ; but there was a strong wind and the

A WINTER EXCURSION.

197

walking was not as good as before. If it seemed three
miles going up, it seemed six going down.

Our cariole arrived a few minutes after us, and an
hour's ride found us all at home again.

So ended our first winter camping expedition, and all
voted that it had been one of thorough pleasure. All
declared they would go again if they ever had the oppor-
tunity.

Winter camping is preferable to summer in that there
are no troublesome flies or mosquitoes, and that it is easy
going through the woods on snowshoes. The summer
gives many delights
that winter does
not ; but each sea-
son has its charm.

Every one of my
party professes his
or her willingness
to go to Lake Clair
again at any time.

We were reading
some glowing ac-
counts of the winter
paradise of South-
ern California. One
of the little girls said, " Lake Clair is our winter paradise ; "
and so we call it.

It is our grand sanitarium. Whatever little maladies we
have are usually left there. Influenza, neuralgia, rheum-
atism, or malarial complaints seldom find their way back
from Lake Clair.

Since the time of this first family visit to Lake Clair
our cabin has been much enlarged, and every year we
have a number of guests. We have not the luxurious

198

A WINTER EXCURSION.

accommodations of the modern fishing club ; but we have
enough to furnish all essential comforts for visitors, as
well as for my own limited requirements in winter.

Of course we do considerable fishing in summer and
equally of course we have all sorts of luck. Sometimes
after much canoeing, walking, wading, and hard work
generally, we get but little for our pains, and at other times
when our hopes and expectations are low we strike a good
bit of sport. One thing 1 will say for ourselves, — we
never waste any fish. When we get as many as we can

use, we stop fishing. And although we never get any fish
big enough to tell lies about in the newspapers, we seldom
fail to catch enough for our next meal.

Among our summer visitors at the lake we have a good
many ladies. Of course they all think they can take fish
as well as anybody, and we always give them a chance to
try. But it is as difficult for a woman to throw a fly as it is
for her to throw a stone. 1 at times try to give them a few
lessons in the art, taking good care, however, to pull my
hat well down over my eyes and ears, to avoid accidents.
Ladies need a good deal of practice before they can handle

A WINTER EXCURSION.

199

a fly rod with even moderate certainty or safety. I keep
a couple of rods especially for ladies' use. They are not
allowed to disport themselves with my own particular pet
tackle. Perhaps it is a little mean of me, but I think that
a good stout rod and worn-out flies are just as good to
frighten trout with as any others.

They rarely accomplish much, for what with untangling
their lines, getting their hooks out of their own and
their neighbors' hair and dresses and their own fingers,
there is not much time left for other departments of the
sport. So far as the real taking of trout is concerned,
I doubt if it is any advantage to have ladies in the party.
I have known a very inexperienced fisherman to take his
rod and net, go away alone and bring back a very hand-
some string of fish ; when a far more practised hand, who
took a lady with him, came back with scarcely any fish
at all. It was a lovely afternoon for fishing, too : soft and
cloudy, with a light breeze blowing, that made all the
trees wave their branches as if in benediction. Still, there
was fully as much excitement in our camp that evening
as if those two persons had brought in all the trout they
could carry.

Greenough, *?. P. F

5467-
Canadian folk-life and .G?

folk-lore.