A Little Girl in Old Detroit, Amanda Minnie Douglas [primary phonics TXT] 📗

floated out of reach with a slight gust of wind.

"Monsieur"--Jeanne came nearer--"it was a fallen tree. It was so dusk I knew you could not see it."

He was swimming toward them. "I wonder if you can help me recover my boat."

"Monsieur, swim in to the shore and I will bring the canoe there." She was afraid to risk taking him in hers. "Just down below to escape the tree."

"Oh, thank you. Yes, that will be best."

His strokes were fine and strong even if he was encumbered by his clothing. Jeanne propelled her canoe along and drove the other in to shore, then caught it with a rope. He emerged from his bath and shook himself.

"You have been very kind. I should have heeded your warning or asked you what it meant. And now--I have lost my paddle."

"I have an extra one, Monsieur."

"You are a godsend certainly. Lend it to me."

He waded out, rescued his canoe and leaped adroitly into it. She was interested in the ease and grace.

"That tree is a dangerous thing," he exclaimed.

"They will remove it, Monsieur. It must have recently fallen in. The tide has washed the ground away."

"It was quite a mishap, but owing to your quick thought I am not much the worse;" and he laughed. "I do not mind a wetting. As for the lost paddle that will break no one's heart. But I shall remember you with gratitude. May I ask your name?"

"It is Jeanne Angelot," she said simply.

"Oh, then I ought to know you--do know you a little. My father is the Sieur St. Armand."

"Oh!" Jeanne gave a little cry of delight.

"And I have a message for you. I was coming to find you to-morrow."

"Monsieur may take cold in his wet clothes, Jeanne. We ought to go a little faster," said Pani. "The air is getting chilly here on the river."

"If you do not mind I will hasten on. And to-morrow I shall be glad to come and thank you again and deliver my message."

"Adieu," responded Jeanne, with a delicious gayety.

He was off like a bird and soon out of sight. Jeanne drew her canoe up to a quiet part of the town, below the gate. The day was ending, as holidays often did, in a sort of carouse. Men were playing on fiddles, crowds of men and boys were dancing. By some flaring light others were playing cards or dominoes. The two threaded their way quickly along, Jeanne with her head and face nearly hidden by the big kerchief that was like a shawl.

"How queer it was, Pani!" and she laughed. Her eyes were like stars in their pleasure. "And to think Monsieur St. Armand has sent me a message! Do you suppose he is in France? I asked the master to show me France--he has a map of these strange countries."

"A map!" gasped Pani, as if it were an evil spirit.

"Why, it is like a picture with lines all about it. This is France. This is Spain. And England, where the English come from. I should think they would--it is such a little place. Ever so many other countries as well. But after all I don't understand about their going round--"

"Come and have some supper."

"We should have seen him anyhow if he had not fallen into the river. And it was funny! If he had heeded what I said--it was lucky we saw the tree as we went down."

"He will give due notice of it, no doubt. The water is so clear that it can easily be seen in the daytime. Otherwise I should feel troubled."

Jeanne nodded with gay affirmation. She was in exuberant spirits, and could hardly eat.

Then they sat out in the doorway, shaded somewhat by the clinging vines. From below there was a sound of music. Up at the Fort the band was playing. There was no moon, but the stars were bright and glittering in strange tints. Now and then a party rather merry with wine and whisky trolled out a noisy stave that had been imported from the mother country years ago about Jacques and his loves and his good wine.

Presently the great bell clanged out. That was a signal for booths to shut, for deerhide curtains to be drawn. Some obstreperous soldiers were marched to the guardhouse. Some drunken revelers crept into a nook beside a storage box or hid in a tangle of vines to sleep until morning.

But in many of the better class houses merriment and gayety went on while the outside decorousness was observed. There was a certain respect paid to law and the new rulers were not so arbitrary as the English had been. Also French prejudices were wearing slowly away while the real characteristics of the race remained.

"I shall not go to school to-day," said Jeanne the next morning. "I will tell the master how it was, and he will pardon me. And I will get two lessons to-morrow, so the children will see that he does not favor me. I think they are sometimes jealous."

She laughed brightly and went dancing about singing whatever sounds entered her mind. Now it was a call of birds, then a sharp high cry, anon a merry whistle that one might fancy came from the woods. She ran out and in, she looked up and down the narrow street with its crooks that had never been smoothed out, and with some houses standing in the very road as it were. Everything was crowded in the business part.

Rose De Ber spied her out and came running up to greet her; tossing her head consequentially.

"We had a gay time last night. I wish you could have peeped in the windows. But you know it was not for children, only grown people. Martin Lavosse danced ever so many times with me, but he moaned about Marie, and I said, 'By the time thou art old enough to marry she will have a houseful of babies, perhaps she will give you her first daughter,' and he replied, 'I shall not wait that length of time. There are still good fish in the lakes and rivers, but I am sorry to see her wed before she has had a taste of true life and pleasure.' And, Jeanne, I have resolved that mother shall not marry me off to the first comer."

Jeanne nodded approval.

"I do not see what has come over Pierre," she went on. "He was grumpy as a wounded bear last night and only a day or two ago he made such a mistake in reckoning that father beat him. And Monsieur Beeson and mother nearly quarreled over the kind of learning girls should have. He said every one should know how to read and write and figure a little so that she could overlook her husband's affairs if he should be ill. Marie is going to learn to read afterward, and she is greatly pleased."

It was true that ignorance prevailed largely among the common people. The children were taught prayers and parts of the service and catechism orally, since that was all that concerned their souls' salvation, and it kept a wider distinction between the classes. But the jolly, merry Frenchman, used to the tradition of royalty, cared little. His place was at the end of the line and he enjoyed the freedom. He would not have exchanged his rough, comfortable dress for all the satin waistcoats, velvet small clothes and lace ruffles in the world. Like the Indian he had come to love his liberty and the absence of troublesome restrictions.

But the English had brought in new methods, although education with them was only for the few. The colonist from New England made this a specialty. As soon as possible in a new settlement schools were established, but there were other restrictions before them and learning of most kinds had to fight its way.

Jeanne saw her visitor coming up the street just as her patience was almost exhausted. She was struck with a sudden awe at the sight of the well dressed young man.

"Did you think I would not keep my word?" he asked gayly.

"But your father did," she answered gravely.

"Ah, I am afraid I shall never make so fine a man. I have seen no one like him, Mam'selle, though there are many courageous and honorable men in the world. But you know I have not met everybody," laughing and showing white, even teeth between the red lips. "Good day!" to Pani, who invited him in into the room where she had set a chair for him.

"I want to ask your pardon for my rudeness yesterday," bowing to the child and the woman. "Perhaps my handling of the canoe did not impress you with the idea of superior knowledge, but I have been used to it from boyhood, and have shot rapids, been caught in gales, oh, almost everything!"

"It was not that, Monsieur. We had seen the tree with its branches like so many clinging arms, and it was getting purple and dun as you came up, so we thought it best to warn."

"And I obstinately ran right into danger, which shows how much good advice is thrown away. You see the paddle caught and over I went. But the first thing this morning some boatmen went down and removed it. However, I did not mind the wetting. It was not the first time."

"And Monsieur did not take cold? The nights are chilly now along the river's edge. The sun slips down suddenly," was Pani's anxious comment.

"Oh, no. I am inured to such things. I have been a traveler, too. It was a gay day yesterday, Mam'selle."

"Yes," answered Jeanne. Yet she had felt strangely solitary. "Your father, Monsieur, is in France. I have been learning about that country."

"Oh, no, not yet. There was some business in Washington. To-morrow I leave Detroit to rejoin him in New York, from which place we set sail, though the journey is a somewhat dangerous one now, what with pirate ships and England claiming a right of search. But we shall trust a good Providence."

"You go also," she said with a touch of disappointment. It gave a bewitching gravity to her countenance.

"Oh, yes. My father and I are never long apart. We are very fond of each other."

"And your mother--" she asked hesitatingly.

"I do not remember her, for I was an infant when she died. But my father keeps her in mind always. And I must give you his message."

He took out a beautifully embossed leathern case with silver mountings and ran over the letters.

"Ah--here. 'I want you to see my little friend, Jeanne Angelot, and report her progress to me. I hope the school has not frightened her. Tell her there are little girls in other cities and towns who are learning many wonderful things and will some day grow up into charming women such as men like for companions. It will be hard and tiresome, but she must persevere and learn to write so that she can send me a letter, which I shall prize very highly. Give her my blessing and say she must become a true American and honor the country of which we are all going to feel very proud in years to come. But with all this she must never outgrow her love for her foster mother, to whom I send respect, nor