A glance of true affection--brief, it may be, as a flash of
lightning--becomes, when caught by the eyes of love, a real thing,
fixed and imperishable forever. A tender smile, a fond word of
love's creation, contains a universe of light and life and
immortality,--small things, and of little value to others, but to
him or her whom they concern more precious and more prized than the
treasures of Ind.
Master Jean La Marche, after a few minutes' rest, made still more
refreshing by a draught from a suspicious-looking flask, which, out
of respect for the presence of his mistress, the Lady de Tilly, he
said contained "milk," began a popular boat-song which every
voyageur in New France knew as well as his prayers, and loved to his
very finger-ends.
The canoe-men pricked up their ears, like troopers at the sound of a
bugle, as Jean La Marche began the famous old ballad of the king's
son who, with his silver gun, aimed at the beautiful black duck, and
shot the white one, out of whose eyes came gold and diamonds, and
out of whose mouth rained silver, while its pretty feathers,
scattered to the four winds, were picked up by three fair dames, who
with them made a bed both large and deep--
"For poor wayfaring men to sleep.
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