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Updated: July 12, 2025
They get bitten there with the socialistic craze, and they come back and make trouble. This strike was started by Luc Baste, a French-Canadian, who had been in Maine. You can't stop these things by saying so. There was no strike among Belloc's men!" "No, but did you have no trouble with Belloc's men?"
She looked across the yard to the little house at the other side of it, where her French-Canadian hired man lived, and watched the purple spiral of smoke from its chimney curling up against the crocus sky. Would she run over and see Mrs. Leon Poirier and her little black-eyed, brown-skinned baby? No, they never knew what to say to each other. "If 'twasn't so cold I'd go up and see Ida," she said.
Barode Baruche was excited. He had sure hope of defeating Carnac with the help of Luzanne Larue. The woman had remained hidden since her coming, and the game was now in his hands. On the night before the poll he could declare the thing, not easy to be forgiven by the French-Canadian public, which has a strong sense of domestic duty.
The driver, a French-Canadian turned and displayed an appreciative grin. "Eet ban de ro'd vat you saw de re," he explained, pointing his whip to the thoroughfare they were pursuing. "This a road?" demanded Jerrard, with indignation. "Oui, eet ban a tote-road."
"I only know that Miss Pevay brought me to this room and said I must chum with the girl who was here." "It's not so! I don't believe you!" cried Cora. "And that stuck-up thing, that French-Canadian smartie! just did it to be mean. I'm going to Madame " Nancy really hoped she would. She hoped with all her heart that it would prove a mistake that Cora Rathmore was chummed with her.
They were now in Luzanne's small room, and Junia noted that it had all the characteristics of a habitant dwelling even to the crucifix at the head of the bed, and the picture of the French-Canadian Premier of the Dominion on the wall. She also saw a rosary on a little hook beside the bed. "How do you know?"
The hospitable hearth of James McGill, graced by his noble-minded French-Canadian wife, has also long since disappeared; but through his endowment, and the prince-like gifts of William Molson, Peter Redpath, Lord Strathcona and Mount Royal, Sir Wm. Macdonald and many others, the torch of education has been lighted here, which shall shine a beacon for ages to come.
One of his most damnable acts was the killing of an old French-Canadian trapper, whose name was Jules Bernard, who lived on a ranch on the eastern border of Colorado. While he lived there he got into a quarrel with Slade, and the latter swore he would kill Jules on sight. Slade waited five years for his opportunity. The story is told by an eye-witness as follows:
Being descended, generally, from French-Canadian sires and Indian mothers, they united some of the good and not a few of the bad qualities of both, mentally as well as physically combining the light, gay-hearted spirit and full, muscular frame of the Canadian with the fierce passions and active habits of the Indian.
He was truthful, honest, and sincere, and commanded the respect and confidence of all with whom he came in contact. Had it not been for Sir George Cartier, it is doubtful whether the Dominion of Canada would exist to-day. He it was who faced at its inception the not unnatural French-Canadian distrust of the measure.
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