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"'Get out hell! says he. He sticks his mug right in my face. "'That woman you speak so light of, says he, 'is a queen. A Canuck queen, say he. "I had to laugh. 'Since when was there queens in Canada? says I. 'And since when has the Canuck queens been usin' stove polish for talcum powder? "The guys grabs me by the coat. Listen. He was strong as a wire.
Paddy's reply was sententious. "Did you ever hear a pig soliloquizing to himself, just as he crossed the tracks between the wheels of an express train? Well then!" "Meanwhile," Carew observed thoughtfully; "I wonder why we are out on this trek." "To escort the little Canuck with his mounts, and to study the surface of the land, to be sure."
"No, thanks," he said politely, and struggling with an inclination to laugh, "I'll smoke a cigarette," and took one from his own case and lighted it. He was a good deal interested and probed gently. "You're Canadian, I suppose?" he said. "But this isn't Canadian Transport, is it?" "Not," said the sergeant "Neither it nor me. No Canuck in mine, Loo-tenant. I'm good United States."
When I see your lean, tall Australians with the sun at the back of their eyes, I'm looking at men from another planet. Outside you and Peter, I never got to fathom a South African. The Canadians live over the fence from us, but you mix up a Canuck with a Yank in your remarks and you'll get a bat in the eye ... But most of us Americans have gotten a grip on your Old Country.
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.
The water was calm, and we cut across "the moon way," that funnelled off to the shores of Canada. "It is one ver' gran' night," I said in my dialect of the rude Canuck; for I did not wish him, or any one, to know me. War is war, but, surely, such adventures are not the thing for a woman. "Yis, mahm," he answered, pushing hard with the paddle. "Yer a friend o' the cap'n, ain't ye Ray Bell?"
I ate Nabiscos till I got another date, then I pulled the air-dome stuff that had scored in Little Rock and Michigan City, and it got by somehow. My mother was a Canuck, so I knew some French, and eventually I reached the Continent. There I met the Old Nick.
"I hated to see our Judy drop out; but I'd rather see a freshman win over those juniors and seniors, if a sophomore can't do it." "Pah!" exclaimed Cora Rathmore, "Nelson hasn't a chance with that Canuck. None of us had." "Nancy is skating easier than all of them," observed one of the other girls. "Wouldn't it be odd if a freshman should win?" cried Sally.
"Judas Priest!" said he, as I came alongside, "thet air's rougher 'n the bog trail." We came to Paleyville with time only for a bite of luncheon before dark. We could see no sign of life on the island or the "Canuck shore" as we turned our bows to the south channel. That evening the innkeeper sat with us under a creeking sign, our chairs tilted to the tavernside.
Once as he stood at the carriage door, the rug over his arm, waiting for Miss Connie to descend the steps for her afternoon drive, an impudent little "Canuck" jeered at him in passing. "Hello, Hinglish!" he yelled. "We're a Barnardo boy, we h'is, fer all our swell brass buttons." Buck winced. How he hated Watkins on the box to hear this everlasting taunt cast at him.
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