I was at first puzzled by that question, and answered him: “I never heard that there was any military officer by the name of ‘General Cargo.’ How do you know that there is such a general in the world?”
He quickly answered: “There is surely a ‘General Cargo’ somewhere in England or America, and he must be very rich; for see the large number of ships which bear his name, and have entered the port of Quebec these last few days!”
Seeing the strange mistake, and finding his ignorance so wonderful, I burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. I could not answer a word, but cried at the top of my voice: “General Cargo! General Cargo!”
The poor curate, stunned by my laughing, looked at me in amazement. But, unable to understand its cause, he asked me: “Why do you laugh?” But the more stupefied he was, the more I laughed, unable to say anything but “General Cargo! General Cargo!”
The three other vicars, hearing the noise, hastily came from their rooms to learn its cause, and get a good laugh also. But I was so completely beside myself with laughing, that I could not answer their questions in any other way than by crying, “General Cargo! General Cargo!”
The puzzled curate tried then to give them some explanation of that mystery, saying with the greatest naivete: “I cannot see why our little Father Chiniquy is laughing so convulsively. I put him a very simple question when he entered my room to give me my English lesson. I simply asked him if he had ever seen ‘General Cargo,’ who has sent so many ships to our ports these last few days, and added that that general must be very rich, since he has so many ships on the sea!” The three vicars saw the point, and without being able to answer him a word, they burst into such fits of laughter that the poor curate felt more than ever puzzled.
“Are you crazy?” he said, “What makes you laugh so when I put to you such a simple question? Do you not know anything about that ‘General Cargo,’ who surely must live somewhere, and be very rich, since he sends so many vessels to our port that they fill nearly two columns of the ‘Quebec Gazette?’”
These remarks of the poor curate brought such a new storm of irrepressible laughter from us all as we never experienced in our whole lives. It took us some time to sufficiently master our feelings to tell him that “General Cargo” was not the name of any individual, but only the technical words to say that the ships were laden with general goods.
The next morning the young and jovial vicars gave the story to their friends, and the people of Quebec had a hearty laugh at the expense of our friend. From that time we called our good curate by the name of “General Cargo,” and he was so good-natured that he joined with us in joking at his own expense. It would require too much space were I to publish all the comic blunders of that good man, so I shall give only one more.
On one of the coldest days in January, 1835, a merchant of seal skins came to the parsonage with some of the best specimens of his merchandise, that we might buy them to make overcoats. For in those days the overcoats of buffalo or raccoon skins were not yet thought of. Our richest men used to have beaver overcoats, but the rest of the people had to be contented with Canada seal skins; a beaver overcoat could not be had for less than $200.