Cameron of Lochiel

by Philippe Aubert de Gaspé

As soon as he appeared on the threshold a young man clambered up the May-pole with the nimbleness of a squirrel, gave three twirls to the weather-cock, and shouted: "Long live the King! Long live the Seigneur D'Haberville!" And the crowd yelled after him with all the vigor of their lungs: "Long live the King! Long live the Seigneur D'Haberville!" Meanwhile the young man had clambered down again, cutting off with his tomahawk as he descended all the pegs of the May-pole.

Thereupon the seigneur proceeded to blacken the May-pole by firing at it a blank charge from his musket. The other members of the family followed his example in the order of their rank, the ladies firing as well as the men.

Then followed a rattling feu-de-joie, which lasted a good half-hour. One might have fancied the manor house was besieged by a hostile army. The May-pole, so white before, seemed suddenly to have been painted black, so zealous were all to do it honor. Indeed, the more powder one could burn on this occasion, the greater the compliment to him for whom the May-pole was erected.

As every pleasure comes to an end, M. D'Haberville seized a moment when the firing appeared to slacken a little to invite the crowd in to breakfast. There was another rattling discharge by way of temporary farewell to the May-pole, some splinters of which were now scattered about the ground beneath, and every one moved silently into the house.

The seigneur, the ladies, and a dozen of the oldest among the leading habitants, were seated at a table in the seigneurial dining-room. This table was set with the plain dishes, wines, and coffee which constituted a Canadian breakfast among the upper classes; there was added also to gratify the guests some excellent brandy, and some sugar-cakes in lieu of bread.

It was no offense to the other guests to be excluded from this table; they were proud, on the contrary, of the compliment paid to their more venerable relations and friends.

The second table in the adjoining room, where Uncle Raoul presided, was supplied as would have been that of a rich habitant on a similar occasion. Besides the superfluity of viands already enumerated, each guest found beside his plate the inevitable sugar-cake, a cruller, a tart about five inches in diameter and more rich in paste than in jam, and an unlimited supply of brandy. There were also some bottles of wine on the table, to which nobody paid the least attention; to use their own energetic expression, it did not "scratch the throat enough." The wine was placed there chiefly for the women, who were occupied in serving the breakfast, and who would take their places at the table after the men's departure. Josephte would take a glass or two of wine without much pressing after she had had her accustomed appetizer.

Over the third table, spread in the mighty kitchen, presided Jules, with Archie to assist him. This was the table for the young men, and it was supplied like that of Uncle Raoul. While there was gayety enough at the first two tables, there was at the same time a certain decorum observed; but at the third, especially toward the end of the repast, which lasted far on into the morning, there was such a perpetual applause that one could hardly hear himself speak.

The reader is much deceived if he imagines that the May-pole was all this time enjoying repose. Almost every moment one or other of the guests would get up, run out and fire his gun at the May-pole, and return to his place at the table after this act of courtesy.