erybody say, 'Ah, dere go de good Mathurin!' He
laugh, he tell story, he smoke leetla tabac, he take leetla white wine
behin' de door; dat is nosing--non.

"He have in de parish five, ten, twenty children all call Mathurin;
he is godfadder with dem--yes. So he go about with plenty of sugar and
sticks of candy in his pocket. He never forget once de age of every
leetla child dat call him godfadder. He have a brain dat work like a
clock. My gran'fadder he say dat Mathurin have a machine in his head. It
make de words, make de thoughts, make de fine speech like de Cure, make
de gran' poetry--oh, yes!

"When de King of Englan' go to sit on de throne, Mathurin write ver'
nice verse to him. And by-and-by dere come to Mathurin a letter--voila,
dat is a letter! It have one, two, three, twenty seals; and de King he
say to Mathurin: 'Merci mille fois, m'sieu'; you are ver' polite. I tank
you. I will keep your verses to tell me dat my French subjects are
all loyal like M. Mathurin.' Dat is ver' nice, but Mathurin is not
proud--non. He write six verses for my granmudder--hein? Dat is
something. He write two verses for de King of Englan' and he write six
verses for my granmudder--you see! He go on so, dis week, dat week, dis
year, dat year, all de time.

"Well, by-and-by dere is trouble on Pontiac. It is ver' great trouble.
You see dere is a fight 'gainst de King of Englan', and dat is too bad.
It is not his fault; he is ver' nice man; it is de bad men who make de
laws for de King in Quebec. Well, one day all over de country everybody
take him gun, and de leetla bullets, and say, I will fight de soldier of
de King of Englan'--like dat. Ver' well, dere was twenty men in Pontiac,
ver' nice men--you will find de names cut in a stone on de church; and
den, three times as big, you will find Mathurin's name. Ah, dat is de
ting! You see, dat rebellion you English call it, we call it de War of
de Patriot--de first War of de Patriot, not de second-well, call it what
you like, quelle difference? The King of Englan' smash him Patriot War
all to pieces. Den dere is ten men of de twenty come back to Pontiac
ver' sorry. Dey are not happy, nobody are happy. All de wives, dey cry;
all de children, dey are afraid. Some people say, What fools you are;
others say, You are no good; but everybody in him heart is ver' sorry
all de time.

"Ver' well, by-and-by dere come to Pontiac what you call a colonel with
a dozen men--what for, you tink? To try de p