United States or Japan ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"My name is Henry Esmond," said the lad, looking up at her in a sort of delight and wonder, for she had come upon him as a Dea certe, and appeared the most charming object he had ever looked on. Her golden hair was shining in the gold of the sun; her complexion was of a dazzling bloom; her lips smiling, and her eyes beaming with a kindness which made Harry Esmond's heart to beat with surprise.
"Does it always smoke?" whispered Little Bill to his brother. The "it" referred to was Baby La Certe, which had, as usual, possessed itself of its father's pipe when the mother was not watching. "I'm not sure, Little Bill, but I think that it does its best." It was observed, especially by Fred Jenkins, that the tea-drinking which went on at this place was something marvellous.
A brief order from the maternal lips sent Baby La Certe toddling round the fire towards its father, pipe in hand; but, short though the road was, it had time to pause and consider. Evidently the idea of justice was strongly developed in that child. Fair wage for fair work had clearly got hold of it, for it put the pipe which was still alight, in its mouth and began to draw!
La Certe was still standing in a state of hesitancy, troubled by a strong desire to help his friend, and a stronger desire to spare himself, when he was thrown somewhat off his wonted balance by the sudden reappearance of Dechamp, leading, or rather supporting, a man.
"Well," he said, quietly, "what about the knife?" "Would you like to have it my wife bade me inquire?" "Why should I like to have it?" he asked carelessly. "Oh! I thought it was yours," said La Certe. "You are mistaken. I said it was very like mine. But it is not mine and I have no wish for what does not belong to me." "Of course not.
La Certe's father was a French Canadian, his mother an Indian woman, but both having died while he was yet a boy he had been brought or left to grow up under the care of an English woman who had followed the fortunes of the La Certe family. His early companions had been half-breeds and Indians. Hence he could speak the English, French, and Indian languages with equal incorrectness and facility.
This he clearly intimates in the following verses, written by him on the subject: "Accipe, sed placidé, quæ, si non optimo, certé Espressit nobis non mala pacis amor. Et tibi dic, nostro labor hic si displicet avo, A gratia pretium posteritate feret."
"Domestic infelicity," answered La Certe, with a sorrowful shake of the head. "What! surely Slowfoot has not taken to being unkind to you?" "O no! Slowfoot could not be unkind, but she is unhappy; she has lost her cheerful looks; she does not take everything as she once did; she does not now let everything go anyhow with that cheerful resignation which was once her delightful characteristic.
Submitting to treatment like an obedient child, he was soon fit to stagger to the sleigh or cariole, into which he was carefully stuffed and packed like a bale of goods by La Certe and his wife, who, to their credit be it recorded, utterly ignored, for once, the discomforts of the situation. Fergus was asleep before the packing was quite done.
I don't know about that," returned the boy, doubtfully; "but I'm quite sure there would not be much pemmican in Red River this winter if all the hunters were like you. I wonder you're not ashamed, Francois. Sometimes I think that you're not worth caring about; but I can't help it, you know we can't force our likings one way or other." La Certe was a good deal taken aback.
Word Of The Day