"His black cravat, and shoes for which he had to pay;
And he took his dear Lizett', so proud of his display:
Mon ton ton, etc.
"He took his dear Lizett', so proud of his display;
But they kicked him out to learn to dance, and call another day:
Mon ton ton, etc.
"They kicked him out to learn to dance, and call another day;
But they kept his dear Lizett', his pretty fiancée:
Mon ton ton de ritaine, mon ton ton de rité."
"Why, it is a charming little idyl!" cried Archie, laughing. "What a pity José had not an education! Canada would possess one poet the more."
"But to return to the experiences of his late father," said Jules, "I believe that the old drunkard, after having dared La Corriveau (a thing which the habitants consider very foolhardy, as the dead are sure to avenge themselves, sooner or later)—I believe the old drunkard fell asleep in the ditch just opposite Isle d'Orléans, where the habitants traveling by night always think they see witches; I believe also that he suffered a terrible nightmare, during which he thought himself attacked by the goblins of the island on the one hand and by La Corriveau on the other. José's vivid imagination has supplied the rest, for you see how he turns everything to account—the pictures in your natural history, for instance, and the Cyclopes in my uncle's illustrated Virgil, of which his dear late father had doubtless never heard a word. Poor José! How sorry I am for the way I abused him the other day. I knew nothing of it until the day following, for I had entirely lost my senses on seeing you disappear in the flood. I begged his pardon very humbly, and he answered: 'What! are you still thinking about that trifle? Why, I look back upon it with pleasure now all the racket is over. It made me even feel young again, reminding me of your furies when you were a youngster—when you would scratch and bite like a little wild cat, and when I would carry you off in my arms to save you from the punishment of your parents. How you used to cry! And then, when your anger was over, you would bring me your playthings to console me."
"Faithful José! what unswerving attachment to our family through every trial! Men with hearts as dry as tinder often look with scorn on such people as José, though possessed of none of their virtues. A noble heart is the best gift of God to man."
As our travelers drew near the manor house of St. Jean-Port-Joli, whose roof they could see under the starlight, the conversation of Jules D'Haberville, ordinarily so frivolous and mocking, grew more and more thoughtful and sincere.