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Updated: May 19, 2025
When the valley is brimming with sunshine, And the Souris, limpid and clear, Slips over its shining pebbles And the harvest time draws near, The heart of the honest plowman Is filled with content and cheer!
It was all I could do to keep from boxing his ears, before everyone, but I kept still, and laughed a little; presently I answered in a drawling sort of way, saying I needn't tell him that what Souris carried was no affair of his, because when I came to think of it, after all it was quite natural that a great donkey should be interested in a small one." "By Jove, you little fire-eater!"
"You think her conversion within sight?" "Just round the corner, if I may so express it." "Yet I hear that she tells her employer she is devoting all her energies towards saving you from eternal fire. It was her excuse for letting the bag drop off Souris' back without noticing it, and for allowing Fanny's saddle to chafe." "Ah, Monsieur, women are ready with excuses.
If you have ever had it, you will know what I mean, and if you haven't I cannot make you understand. I had that feeling then.... I said to myself: "Where have I seen that face before?" ... Then, suddenly, I remembered, and in my heart I cried out: "Mike! old friend, Mike! Dead these many years! Your bones lie buried under the fertile soil of the Souris Valley, but your soul goes marching on!
Stormy days were coming. Once Governor Macdonell had published his edict, he did not hesitate to enforce its terms. Information had been received at Colony Gardens that the Nor'westers had stored a quantity of provisions in their trading-post at the mouth of the Souris, a large southern tributary of the Assiniboine.
But the particular thing I'm speaking of happened here. I couldn't stand it, you know." "What did he say?" "He asked me how old I was, at first in such a tone! I answered that I was old enough to know my way about, I hoped. He said he should have thought not, as I travelled with my nurse. Then he wanted to know what was in Souris' pack, whether I carried condensed milk for my nursing-bottle.
"I think I'd better write to Souris, sir; the letter is to me, you see, and I should not feel quite justified in taking no steps to investigate the matter." How easy the hackneyed phrase "taking steps" sounded to Caius! but experience breeds strong instincts. The elder man felt the importance of this first decision, and struck out against it as an omen of ill.
The steamer from Souris had made this channel by knocking aside the light ice with her prow. She was built to travel in ice. She lay now, with funnel still smoking, in the harbour, a quarter of a mile from the small quay.
He lit his cigar, and when it was drawing nicely, removed it from his mouth, and looked carefully at it, as if he expected to find authentic information in it regarding private members. Failing this, he put it back in his mouth, and between puffs went on: "Let me see they are wanting a bridge near there, aren't they? on the Souris?" "Yes sir, at Purple Springs."
Neelands walked joyously on, while behind him there gathered one of the worst blizzards that the Souris Valley has known.
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