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From: | Dickie Oconnell |
Subject: | [Emacs-commit] keeping cornet |
Date: | Tue, 29 Aug 2006 19:41:03 -0400 |
Lews soft rich voice had become hoarse with
passion.
Now the same devilment was unloosed
again.
When he arrived with Monsieur Galliard I was
surprisedby the look of both.
Far greater than mine, the Father said, though
Ihave been living for years among them.
His oldhappinesses seemed to link in with his new
mood of thankfulness. The hunters, theFrizelles and the Hares, came to visit him on
every return journey. He smiled as he remembered those days, withtheir dreary
stoicism. Also the streams were being loosed fromtheir winter
stricture.
But proper care meant life in the open, no
heavyduties, and not too much exertion.
Now the same devilment was unloosed
again.
On this one of the hunters,Louis Frizelle, insisted
passionately.
The Frizels, Lew and Johnny, are menof high
character and great experience. The North had not frozen him, but had melted the ice
inhis heart. For he had come to love thosepoor childish folk.
Theosseous structure of his face was as sharply
defined as thefeatures on a newly minted coin. Through strange circuits he had come
to that simpleforthright duty for which he had always longed.
Ive taken the one for myself that I believeI can do
best.
Galliard bore him out, that in a little time he
would be dead.
He was addressing Lew, whose eyes questioned
him.
When things became bad early in the New Year I was
in doubt whomto turn to. What does my deathmatter if we defeat Death?
The younger, until recently, was a game warden at
theNational Park at Waskesieu. Hishealth was like a small sum of money, all that was
left of a bigfortune. I felt that no circumstances couldbreak the iron armour of his
fortitude.
Leithen should be buried at aspot in Quebec
Province for which he had a special liking.
There is the chief Zacharias, who has a stout
heart.
And in forgetting his own troubleshe found they had
disappeared.
But first there are several jobs to
bedone.
He was not of the Church, but beyonddoubt he died
in grace.
He watched eagerly for the signs of spring. I
wanted a man ofeducation who could understand and cope with the Hares malaise. He
smiled, too, often, as if he saw the humoursof life. The presbytery had warmed up,
and Galliard had fallen asleep. There was superstition in it, a horror ofa
supernatural and desperate malevolence. Their eyes followed theslender north-flowing
stream. Also,the tribe was now in a better mood, as spring was very near. Besides,
Iwanted something more than physical assistance.
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