"That is far away from here, surely."
"Ah! yes," I sighed. So did the man opposite me. We were silent then
for a few moments when he spoke again.
"There is a countree I should like to see and dat is France. I hear,
sir, I hear my mother talk of dat countree, and I tink--I should
like to go there. But that is far away from here, too far away, sure."
My heart leapt up. Here, if ever, must be the man I was in search of.
"You are a French-Canadian, I suppose?"
"Yes, Sir, I am dat."
"And where do you live?" said I.
"I work in de mill; de largess mill in the Chaudiere. You know dat
great water, the fall under the bridge, dat we call the Chaudiere."
"I know it well," said I, "but I have never gone properly over any
of the mills. I should like to go some day very much. Should I see
you anywhere if I went down?"
He stared, but gave me the name of his mill. It belonged to one of
the wealthiest lumber kings of the district. I resolved to go down
the next day.
"What is your name," I asked. The man hesitated a minute before he
replied,
"Netty."
"Netty!" I repeated "What a curious name! You have another name, I
expect. That must only be a nickname."
"_Mais oui Monsieur_. My name is much longaire than dat. My whole
name is Etienne Guy Chezy D'Alencourt, but no man call me dat,
specially in de mill. 'Netty'--dey all know 'Netty.'"
It was a long name, truly, and a high-sounding one,--but I preferred
thinking of him by it than by the meaningless soubriquet of
"Netty." At the next corner he got out, touching his cap to me quite
politely as he passed.
I was in high spirits that evening, for I believed I had found my
_habitant_. I went down to the Chaudiere the following day, and
got permission to go over Mr. ----'s mill I found it very
interesting, but my mind was not sufficiently centered on planks and
logs and booms to adequately appreciate them. I wanted "Netty."
After I had made the complete round of the mill I came upon him hard
at work in his place turning off planks in unfailing order as they
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