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Cuthbert, in an aside, asked Owen if they need fear any danger from the Crees; but the young Canuck shook his head in the negative, answering back: "Not at all. The only failing they have is a weakness for appropriating anything that strikes their fancy, when they think no one is looking, and I think we can avoid that by being on guard all the time until we embark again.
Little Canuck dear, what would you say, if you was hit?" Weldon laughed shortly. "I should probably say 'Thank God," he answered. Paddy crossed himself. "And might heaven forgive you then, little one!" he said gravely. "The Lord and the Holy Virgin may send the bullets to kill you, unless it's from the Boers who is guided by the Father of Lies; but it's small thanks in return they will be asking.
They may be trained to believe it's comfortable to walk round in public with their kneepans in plain sight; but no man can ever make me think it's either beautiful to the eye, or respectful in the presence of one's betters." "But their officers wear the same uniform, Paddy," Weldon objected. "Who are their betters?" "Myself, little Canuck, and yourself, too," Paddy answered calmly.
It was the sound of an axe. "Oh, I know where we are," said Jeff. "It's that Canuck chopping in Whitwell's clearing. Come along." He led the way briskly down the mountain-side now, stopping from time to time and verifying his course by the sound of the axe. This came and went, and by-and-by it ceased altogether, and Jeff crept forward with a real or feigned uncertainty. Suddenly he stopped.
I could make nothing out of their incoherent explanations. ... "Trypheny was crazy ... she'd ought to have a guardeen ... that Canuck shoemaker had addled her brains ... there'd ought to be a law against that kind of newspaper. ... Trypheny was goin' like her great-aunt, Lucilly, that died in the asylum. ..." I appealed directly to Cousin Tryphena for information as to what the trouble was.
By that illumination Father Anthony saw two men stripped naked, save for a loin-cloth, and circling each other slowly in the center of a ring which was fenced in with ropes and floored with a padded mat. Certainly Father Victor had spared nothing in expense to make the fittings of the gymnasium perfect. Of the two wrestlers, one was a veritable giant of a Canuck, swarthy of skin, hairy-chested.
He went out into the ell, and Westover heard him raising a window. He came back and asked, "That do? It 'll get around in here directly," and Westover had to profess relief. Jackson came in presently with the little Canuck, whom Whitwell presented to Westover: "Know Jombateeste?"
The rubber band of his nose-guard snapped harshly as he plucked at it, playing a song of hatred on that hard little harp. An insignificant thing made him burst out. Tommy La Croix, the French Canuck, a quick, grinning, evil-spoken, tobacco-chewing, rather likeable young thug, stared directly at Carl and said, loudly: "'Nother thing I noticed was that Frazer didn't have his pants pressed.
Ah tol' you Ah feel bad for hear dat leetly boy cussin'. Dat was too shame." And Lamoury paused to let this beautiful sentiment impress itself upon the jurors. Mr. Peaslee listened with profound astonishment. "Den he holler somet'ing Ah ain't hear, honly 'Canuck, han' Ah begins for get my mads up. Ah hain't do heem no harm, hein?
Durgin, and they all laughed. They were not people who laughed a great deal, and they were each intent upon some point in the future that kept them from pleasure in the present. The little Canuck was the only one who suffered himself a contemporaneous consolation.
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