But she did not see; she would never see.

He laughed aloud, for all the world as if the sun were bright and the fret for adventure were still keen in him, then, picking up his bundle, said: "Dere's no use argue wit' Canayen man.

Mebbe some day I come paddle back roun' de ben' down yonder, an' you hear me singin' dose chanson; but now de day she's too fine, de river she's laugh too loud, an' de birds she's sing too purty for Francheman to stop on shore.

Ba gosh, I'm glad!" He began to hum, and they heard him singing all the way down to the river-bank, as if the spirit of Youth and Hope and Gladness were not dead within him.
"Chante, rossignol, chante! Toi qui a le coeur gai; Tu as le coeur a rire Mai j' l' ai-ta pleurer, Il y a longtemps que j' t'aime Jamais je ne t'oublierai." [Footnote: "Sing, little bird, oh, sing away! You with the voice so light and gay! Yours is a heart that laughter cheers, Mine is a heart that's full of tears.
Long have I loved, I love her yet; Leave her I can, but not forget."] A moment later they heard him expostulating with some one at the water's edge, and then a child's treble rose on high.
"No, no! I'm goin', too! I'm goin', too-o-o-o--" "Hey! John Gale!" called Poleon.

"Come 'ere! Ba gosh! You better horry, too! I can't hol' dis feller long." When they appeared on the bank above him, he continued, "Look 'ere w'at I fin' on my batteau," and held up the wriggling form of Johnny Gale.
"He's stow hisse'f away onder dem blanket.