nny, so--so ill, she cannot have any leetle babee; no leetle children
play round their fader--that's me, Amable Poussette, beeg man, rich
man, good Methodist, built a fine church on top of the Fall. So this
Mister Poussette after many years live with his wife, after long time
he wants to marry another woman and have plenty small babee, play round
in the summertime (here Poussette hushed his voice) under the beeg
trees, and in the water, learn to swim in the reever, splash like old
duck, old feesh! Many a time I feel like go on the dhrunk. Well sir,
nice, bright, young wife, sing, act, dance--we'd have beeg tam
together, and I'd dhrink nothing but tea, sure! Go to Morreall, buy
_tiquette_ on the theatre, ride on the street car, make transfer to
Hochelaga Park, get out, have nice glass beer--just one, m'sieu--go on
the _boutiques_, buy nice bonnett, eh? I have monee to do like that,
but [with the national shrug] I have no wife. I am tole there is
everything very fonny there all year round, but me--I have only been
there two, three tam; no good go alone, meet bad company, get on the
dhrunk then, sure. Bigosh--_excusez_, Mr. Ringfield, there's nothing
like young, handsome wife and plenty babee keep their father straight.
Eh? So I tell you what I want to do. I will be for selling this
place; get three thousand dollar for it; go to Morreall every winter;
perhaps go on that Hotel Champlain or some other nice _maison pension_
and have big tam--what do you say? That's no bad thing--" Poussette
was very earnest here--"for me--to wish young wife, clever wife, and
leetle babee play round! Before I have the hairs gray, or lose what I
have. _Regardez un peu, m'sieu_!"

And Ringfield could not refuse to examine the fine head of black hair
thrust towards him. He was touched in spite of clerical scruples.

"No, no, certainly not a bad thing," he said gently, "not at all an
unnatural thing. I think I understand, Poussette, I can see----" and
Ringfield seemed to feel something in his throat, at any rate he
coughed and hesitated. "I can see that your position has its
difficulties and its--its trials. But, Poussette, we all have those.
We all have to deny ourselves in some way, in some unexpected quarter.
We cannot always have what we want, that is, in fact, at the root of
all religious feeling, and, if I am not mistaken, at the root of all
religious belief as well. If the great Creator of the universe has had
to suffer an