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Updated: June 3, 2025
When dat Narcisse Bovin and Jacques Gravel come down de river, he better keep away from dat Cote Dorion," sputtered Rouge Gosselin. "Dat's a long story short, all de same for you bagosh!" Rouge Gosselin flung off his glass of white whiskey, and threw after it a glass of cold water. "Tiens! you know not M'sieu' Charley Steele," said Jean Jolicoeur, and turned on his heel, nodding his head sagely.
His eyes wandered to the raft where the men were singing, and he remembered the threat made: that if he came again to the Cote Dorion he "would get what for!" He remembered the warning of Rouge Gosselin conveyed by Jolicoeur, and a sinister smile crossed over his face.
He, at least, in all his doings I do not for a moment believe the story that he caused the cat to be stolen observed rigidly the convenances: so recklessly shattered by Madame Jolicoeur in her most compromising dinner with the Major alone!"
These conventions duly having been observed, Madame Jolicoeur would seat herself in her especial easy-chair, above the relatively high back of which her night-capped head a little rose. Being so seated, always with the air of aloofness and detachment, she would take a book from the table and make a show of becoming absorbed in its contents.
Shops and offices in the street were shut, but a saloon-door was open, and over the doorway was the legend: Jean Jolicoeur, Licensed to sell Wine, Beer, and other Spirituous and Fermented Liquors. Nearly opposite was a lawyer's office, with a new-painted sign.
I'd like to smash that eye-glass for him!" "He's going down-hill fast," said the other. "He drinks steady steady." "Tiens tiens!" interposed Jean Jolicoeur, the landlord. "It is not harm to him. He drink all day, an' he walk a crack like a bee-line." "He's got the handsomest wife in this city. If I was him, I'd think more of myself," answered the Englishman. "How you think more hein?
The lawyer had found a starveling parson in Jolicoeur who asked the fatal questions and pronounced the twain man and wife, adding the warning, "Whom God hath joined, let no man put asunder." Jim Dyckman was so befuddled that he heard it, "Let no man join whom God hath put asunder."
When dat Narcisse Bovin and Jacques Gravel come down de river, he better keep away from dat Cote Dorion," sputtered Rouge Gosselin. "Dat's a long story short, all de same for you bagosh!" Rouge Gosselin flung off his glass of white whiskey, and threw after it a glass of cold water. "Tiens! you know not M'sieu' Charley Steele," said Jean Jolicoeur, and turned on his heel, nodding his head sagely.
It was as though to the Shah de Perse the white night-cap of Madame Jolicoeur, displayed in accordance with the rules of the game, were an oriflamme: akin to, but in minor points differing from, the helmet of Navarre.
"I don't drink, thank you." "It'd do you good. You're dead beat. You've been travelling hard eh?" "I've come a long way, and travelled all night." "Going on?" "I am going back to-morrow." "On business?" Charley nodded he glanced involuntarily at the sign across the street. Jean Jolicoeur saw the look. "Lawyer's business, p'r'aps?" "A lawyer's business yes." "Ah, if Charley Steele was here!"
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