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'For Marie, then I say: 'I go to marry him, bimeby. But she say: 'Keep it and give it to Marie yourself some day. "She smile at me, then she have a little tear in her eye, and she nod to where Bargon stare' houtside, and she say: 'If this summer go wrong, it will kill him. He work and work and fret and worry for me and Marie, and sometimes he just sit and look at me and say not a word.
'For Marie, then I say: 'I go to marry him, bimeby. But she say: 'Keep it and give it to Marie yourself some day. "She smile at me, then she have a little tear in her eye, and she nod to where Bargon stare' houtside, and she say: 'If this summer go wrong, it will kill him. He work and work and fret and worry for me and Marie, and sometimes he just sit and look at me and say not a word.
"When I get up to Bargon's I laugh, for all the hunder' acre is ver' fine, and Bargon stan' hin the door, and stretch out his hand, and say: 'Rachette, there is six hunder' dollar for me. I nod my head, and fetch out a horn, and he have one, his eyes all bright like a lime-kiln. He is thin and square, and his beard grow ver' thick and rough and long, and his hands are like planks.
And the dam little dwarf Parpon, he say: 'He will have flowers on the table and ice on the butter, and a wheel in his head. "And Bargon laugh and say: 'I will have plenty for my friends to eat and drink and a ver' fine time. "'Good, we all say-'Bagosh! So they make the trip through twelve parish, and the fiddles go all the time, and I am what you say 'best man' with Bargon.
Moi, je to marierai, Ma luron lurette! Moi, je to marierai, Ma luron lure! "So; and another year it go along, and Bargon he know that if there come bad crop it is good-bye-my lover with himselves. He owe two hunder' and fifty dollar. It is the spring at Easter, and I go up to him and Norinne, for there is no Mass, and Pontiac is too far away off.
I t'ink the same, but I say to him: 'Your head not feel right him too sof'. He shake his head and go down to the field for his horse and ox, and hitch them up together, and go to work making a road. "It is about ten o'clock when the dam thing come. Piff! go a hot splash of air in my face, and then I know that it is all up with Gal Bargon.
And the dam little dwarf Parpon, he say: 'He will have flowers on the table and ice on the butter, and a wheel in his head. "And Bargon laugh and say: 'I will have plenty for my friends to eat and drink and a ver' fine time. "'Good, we all say-'Bagosh! So they make the trip through twelve parish, and the fiddles go all the time, and I am what you say 'best man' with Bargon.
I am on the Souris at a saw-mill then, and on Sunday sometime I go up to see Bargon and Norinne. I t'ink that baby is so dam funny; I laugh and pinch his nose. His name is Marie, and I say I marry him pretty quick some day. We have plenty hot cake, and beans and pork, and a little how-you-are from a jar behin' the door. "Next year it is not so good.
"I hear some one give a long breath behin', and I look round; but, no, it is Norinne with a smile for she never grumble bagosh! What purty eyes she have in her head! She have that Marie in her arms, and I say to Bargon it is like the Madonne in the Notre Dame at Montreal. He nod his head. 'C'est le bon Dieu it is the good God, he say.
"Bagosh, poor Norinne!" said Medallion, in a queer sort of tone. "It is the way of the world," he added. "I'll wait for Marie myself." It looks as if he meant to, for she has no better friend. He talks to her much of Gal Bargon; of which her mother is glad. At the beginning he was only a tombstone-cutter. His name was Francois Lagarre.
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