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Updated: June 19, 2025
However Ephrem Surprenant chimed in with. "Piano-tuner; that was it, just so!" And his glance at Conrad Neron his neighbour was a trifle superior and challenging, as though intimating. "You would not believe me, and maybe you don't know what it means, but now you see ..." "Piano-tuner," Samuel Chapdelaine echoed in turn, slowly grasping the meaning of the words. "And is that a good trade?
Chapdelaine broke out, quite beside himself: "This doctor is not a bit of use, and I shall tell him so plainly, myself. He came here, he gave her a drop of some miserable stuff worth nothing at all in the bottom of a cup, and he is off to sleep in the village as if his pay was earned! Not a thing has he done but tire out my horse, but he shall not have a copper from me, not a single copper..."
And every Sunday we shall, say I a prayer for him." "He was like the rest of us," Chapdelaine continued, "not without fault, of course, but kindly and well-living. God and the Holy Virgin will have pity on him." Again silence.
Raising his eyes to Maria he repeated with emphasis: "He was a good man, you will not find his like." "When we were at Mistassini," began Madame Chapdelaine, "seven years ago, he was only a lad, but very strong and quick and as tall as he is now I mean as he was when he came here last summer. Always good-natured too. No one could help liking him."
"With the roads as they are we will not be the only ones who have to stay at home this evening," said Madame Chapdelaine. "But is there anything more lovely than the midnight mass at Saint Coeur de Marie, with Yvonne Boilly playing the harmonium, and Pacifique Simard who sings the Latin so beautifully!"
Half an hour went by; after casting his eyes toward the window Chapdelaine arose hurriedly, saying. "I am going to put the horse in." Tit'Sebe nodded. "That is well; you had better harness; it is near day." "Yes. I am going to put the horse in," Chapdelaine repeated.
Madame Chapdelaine stirred the fire in the big cast-iron stove, came and went, brought from the cupboard plates and dishes, the loaf of bread and pitcher of milk, tilted the great molasses jar over a glass jug. Not seldom she stopped to ask Maria something, or to catch what she was saying, and stood for a few moments dreaming, hands on her hips, as the villages spoken of rose before her in memory
Chapdelaine, certainly not just at this time. Everyone there told Francois that it would be foolhardy to attempt such a trip in midwinter, about Christmas, with the cold as great as it was, some four feet of snow lying in the woods, and alone.
He was tall and heavily built, with a grizzled moustache, and his large face wore the slightly aggrieved expression of one whose native cheerfulness is being continually dashed through listening to the tale of others' ills for which he is bound to show a decent sympathy. Chapdelaine came in when he had unharnessed and fed the horse.
But toward the middle of December much snow fell, dry and fine as dust, and three days before Christmas the north-west wind arose and made an end of the roads. On the morrow of the storm Chapdelaine harnessed Charles Eugene to the heavy sleigh and departed with Tit'Be; they took shovels to clear the way or lay out another route.
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