The Cursed Patois | Page 2

keep her any more."
"I'd have done just what you did; that's what makes me so mad. How
long is she going to stay?"
"I don't know," sheepishly responded his partner.

"A Dutchman ought to have more sense than to load up with a lot of
cursed patois. Nothing but French and Indian! We'll have to put the
precious dears in the sleeping-tent, and bunk down ourselves with
blankets in the other. Did you air the blankets good this morning,
Frank?"
"They vos veil aired."
"You're a soft mark, Frank! One of us will have to marry Joe La
France's widow--that's what it will come to!" Brown slapped the water
in violent disgust, but Puttany blushed a dark and modest red.
Men of their class rarely have vision or any kind of foresight. They live
in the present and plan no farther than their horizon, being, like
children, overpowered by visible things. But the Irish Canadian had
lived many lives as lake sailor and lumberman, and he had a shrewd
eye and quick humor. It was he who had devised the conveniences of
the camp, and who delicately and skilfully prepared the meals so that
the two fared like epicures; while Puttany did the scullery-work, and
was superior only at deerstalking.
The perfume of coffee presently sifted abroad, and the table was
brought out and set under the evening sky. Lockers gave up their store
of bread and pastry made by the capable hands of the camp
housekeeper. The woman, their guest, sat watching him move from
cook-tent to table, and Puttany lounged on the dog-kennel, whittling a
stick.
"Frank," said his partner, with sudden authority, "you take the kid down
to the water and scrub him."
"All over?" whispered Puttany, in confusion.
"No--just his hands and top. Supper is ready to put on."
The docile mother heard her child yelling and blubbering under
generous douches while nurse's duty was performed by one of her
entertainers, and she smiled in proof that her faith was grounded on

their righteousness. She was indeed a mere girl. Her short scarlet upper
lip showed her teeth with piquant innocence. As much a creature of the
woods as a doe, her lot had been that primitive struggle which knows
nothing about the amenities and proprieties of civilization. This Brown
could clearly see, and he addressed her with the same protecting
patronage he would have used with the child.
"What's your kid's name?"
"Grégoire, but he call himself Gougou. Me, I am Françoise La France."
"Yes, I know that..You have had a hard time since Joe died."
"I been anxion"--she clasped her hands and looked pleadingly at
him--"I been very anxion!"
"Well, you're all right now."
"You let me do de mend'? I can sew. I use' learn to sew when I have
t'ing to sew on."
"Jerusalem! look at them shirts on the line! We have more clothes to
sew on than any dude at the hotels. And if that isn't enough, I'll make
Puttany strip and stay in the brush while you do his clothes."
Françoise widened her smile.
"I've been thinking we'll have to build you a house right over there."
Her entertainer indicated the shore behind her.
"Oppos'?" exclaimed Françoise, turning with pleased interest. Even in
her husband's lifetime little thought had ever been taken for her.
"Yes, directly opposite. We can fix it up snug like our winter camp at
the other end of the lake."
"Have you two camp?"
"Yes--a winter camp and a summer camp. But we have stayed

comfortably here in the cook-tent until the thermometer went fourteen
degrees below zero. We'll sleep in it till we get your house done, and
you can take the tent. If there are no parties wanting guides, we might
as well begin it in the morning."
"But," faltered Françoise, "afterw'iles when de ice is t'ick, and you go
to de hudder camp--"
"Oh, we'll take care of you," he promised. "You and Gougou will go
with us. We couldn't leave you on this side."
"In de dark nights," shuddered Françoise.
"You needn't be afraid, any time. When we are off during the day we
always leave Jess and Jim to guard the camp. Jess is a Scotch collie and
Jim is a blood-hound. He's there in the kennel. Neither man nor varmint
would have any chance with them."
"I been use' to live alone when my husban' is away, M'sieu' Brownee. I
not 'fraid like you t'ink. But if Gougou be cold and hongry."
"Now that's enough," said Brown, with gentle severity. "Gougou will
never be cold and hungry again while there's a stick of wood to be cut
on the shores of this lake, or any game to bag, or a 'lunge to spear
through the ice. We get about two days'