was sure of his thoughts. He grinned
in the lonely landscape, seeing himself as he had appeared on recent
Sundays, in his best turtle-tail neck-tie mounted on velvet.

"I've got it bad," he confessed.

Stooping to Jim's collar while the dog whined and strained, he passed a
cabin. And there Jim relaxed in the search and turned around. The moon
stood high enough to make a wan fairy daylight. Gougou, like a gnome,
started from the ground to meet them, and the dog at once lay down and
fawned at his feet.

More slowly approaching from the cabin, Brown saw Francoise, still
carrying in her hand the bundle of her belongings brought from camp. In
the shadow of the house a man watched the encounter, and a sift of rank
tobacco smoke hinted the pipes of fathers and sons resting from the
day's labor on the cabin door-sill or the sward. Voices of children
could be heard, and other dogs gave mouth, so that Brown laid severe
commands on Jim before he could tremblingly speak to Francoise.

"Oh, M'sieu' Brownee, I t'ink maybe you come!"

"But, Francoise, what made you leave?"

"It is my husban's brudder. I not know what to do! He bring us to dese
folks to stay all night till de cars go."

"Why didn't he show himself to us, and take you like a man?"

"Oh, M'sieu' Brownee--he say de priest hexcommunicate me--to
live--so--in de camp! It is not my fault--and I t'ink about you and
M'sieu' Put-tanee--and Gougou he bite his honcle, and kick and scream!"

"Damn the uncle!" swore Brown, deeply.

"Oh, I been so anxion!" sobbed Francoise.

"We must be married right off," said Brown. "I'll fix your
brother-in-law. Francoise, will yon have me for your husband?"

"Me, M'sieu' Brownee?"

"Yes, you--you cursed sweet patois!"

"M'sieu' Brownee, you may call me de cursed patois. I not know
anyt'ings. But when Andre La France take me away, oh, I t'ink I die! Let
me honly be Francoise to do your mend'! I be 'appier to honly look at
you dan some womans who 'ave 'usban'!"

"Francoise, kiss me--kiss me!" His voice broke with a sob. "If you loved
me you would have me!"

"M'sieu' Brownee, I ado' you!"

Suddenly giving way to passionate weeping, and to all the tenderness
which nature teaches even barbarians to repress, she abandoned herself
to his arms.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Cursed Patois, by Mary Hartwell Catherwood

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CURSED PATOIS ***

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