ON A CALASH.

Auckland Star, Volume XVIII, Issue 88, 15 April 1887, Page 6

ON A CALASH.

By Luke Sharp.

A Quebec calash is different from anyother vehicle under the sun. No one seems to know how the calash originated. Only in Quebec, as far as lam aware, are calashes seen. A person doesn't say in a calash,, as he would say in a carriage, but on a calash. The calash is the hansom cab of Quebec, and is quite as speedy, and, doubtless, as risky as the London gondola. A calash consists of two immense stout wheels, and, perched between them, resting on a couple of tremendous springs, is the.* body of the vehicle, almost on level with the top of the wheels. There is a cover that can be raised in bad weather. The originator of the calash forgot about the driver, and so no_ provision is made for him. He sits in an uncomfortable attitude on the dashboard. When once you climb into a calash you are very snug, and the riding is much easier than a person would suppose. t chartered a calash for the day from a stand near the English church, and chose a driver who could speak English. My wife did not at all like the looks of the calash, and only a sense of duty induced her to clamber up into it. She knew, as all right-minded people know, that to visit Quebec and not ride in a calash would be like visiting Venice without sailing in a gondola, or Dublin without taking a jaunting-car journey. IWe want to go to Sillery,' I told the driver. ' Drive down to the Lower Town and take the road by tho river.' ' An' a beautiful drive it is, sorr. Manny's the toime Oi've dhriven that same road, sorr.' 'AH right. Then you're just the man we want.' I 1 hope, indade, to plaze yo, soor, an' espishally the ledy, sorr. Oi've dhriven in Quebec these five an' twinty years, sorr, an' me father before me dhrove for well on to five an' thirty, indade he did, sorr—list his sowl —an' a good dhroiyer he was, if it's his son that does say it, sorr. Now it's not me place to dishparage thim Frinch dhroivers, sorr, an' very good dhroivers they may be, but ye see, sorr, no matter how well ye may speak the Frinch language, sorr, ye foind it difficult to undershtant their ' patwah,' as they calls it, sorr. An, ay coorse, if a dhroiver doesn't descroibe the localities sorr, the pleasure of the journey is gone entoirely, sorr.' ' You are quite right. I have found great difficulty in understanding what they say.' 1 Thrue fur ye, sorr. Many gintlemin that spoke Frinch loike Napoleon himself thold me that same, sorr. But ye see, sorr, Oi've dhriven in Quebec these foive and "

1 I'm afraid,' said I to my companion • that the driver is going to monopolise the conversation.'

' Hush/ she whispered, • you'll hurt his feelings. I think we are very lucky to get a driver that understands the town so well.'

The horse had been carefully going down the zigzag hill road, and after turning to the right we came to the little square in which the little church stands.

'What church is that?' asked the • leddy.' 'That, mem? That's the Lower Town Church, mem, a Catolik Church, mem, an' a very pretty little church it is. We're in the Lower Town, mem.' ' Well, I put in, ' when I was here last they called that church Notre Dame.'

«Yer roight, sorr, yer entoirely roight. That's what the Frinch call it, sorr. It's the Frinch name for the church, mem. Ah, yis, it's well Oi remimber whin it was built.'

' You have a most remarkable memory, then. That church was built 200 years ago.' 'Did Oi say built, sorr? Oi mint re-built, sorr, or, rather, repaired, Oi should have said. It's seventeen years ago—yis, eighteen year comin' summer since that church was repaired. Ah, that's an old church, mem. A trifle over 200 year old if it's a day.' We jogged slowly down the narrow and dirty streets of the Lower Town, until we came to the street that leads along the river under the shadow of the great cliff. 'We are now in the Lower Town, sorr, and that is the Citadel, sorr, an' the Upper Town.' He gave U3 this information with a grand air, as if telling facts that otherwise would have been hard to obtain. He indicated the localities mentioned with a wave of his whip. «Let's see. What did you say ypur name was ?' - 'Pathrick, sorr, dhriver, man and by, this five and ' I Then you're not French ?' ' Frinch, is it, sorr ? Ah, now, sorr, yer joakin' wid me.' I 1 just wanted to know. I want to get some information from you that I can depend on.' • Ah, sorr, ye may depind on annything I till ye. Many's the gintleman Oi dhrove that said to me : "Pathrick, it's you that knows more about Quebic than any other livin' man."' • I can well believe they said that. Was it up here that Montgomery climbed ?'

• That very spot, sorr.' • His climbing must have been equal to your memory. No wonder he fell.' The cliff at this point was quite inaccessible. I desired to prove to my companion (who was continually nudging me with her elbow, evidently with the intent of getting me to cease extracting knowledge from the driver) that the man was v. humbug. As the calash went tearing along on the level road we came to a sort of clove in the cliff, and part way up the ravine was a signboard siwh aa adorns the front of

the country grocery store, and on it was painted the words : ' Here Montgomery Fell.' 'Hold on, Pat! Hold on!' Pat reined in his horse. 1 How is this : You told me that Montgomery fell back yonder. Somebody's moved the signboard.' ' Oh,, no, sorr. This is the spot where he fell. Beyant is where he tried to ascind, but failed, sorr.'

' Oh, I see. Still how do you make that out, when he was marching towards the city, not from it.'

' Azy, azy, sorr. Ye see, he passed this spot, and, finding the cliff gettin' shtaaper shtaaper, he retaliated, and attimpted the goain' up where we're shtandin' now, sorr.'

' Perhaps it will interest you tc know that Montgomery was killed down here on the road, and not up there where that sign is.' 'Thrue enough, sorr. Just where the wheels of this calash stand, sorr, is where he died. He was shot up yonder, and fell back and died in the road, sorr.' ' And, let's see, didn't he also die in that house in St. Louis street V Patrick pretended to think this Avas another joke, and we once more trotted along. The cliff to the right had given way to a green mountain slope, and there were some pretty villas here and there at the foot, and indications of ornamental ground at the top. Trees grew all up the heights, and here and there a pretty waterfall came dashing down tho declivity, disappeared under the road and foamed out again in rapids that ran to the river. Out in the stream lay a great black, ocean-going ship, being ladened with huge logs of square timber for over the seas. All along the river was one continuous lumber and timber yard. ' See here. I want you to tell me where Wolfe went up.' ' I'll do that, sorr.' ' I think you're past the place now. Just haul up ; I want to speak to this man we are about to meet.'

I hailed the coming foot-passonger with :

' Can you speak English, sir ?' ' Yes; can you 1' he answered jauntily. ' Reasonably well.'

'I also talk French, German, Spanish, a little Italian and a smattering of Danish, so just pick out your lingo and begin conversation.' ' Well, as I speak only Russian, Sanscrit, Chippewa, Chinese, and a Persian dialect, suppose we stick to pjiiglish. I want to know where Wolfe's Cove is.'

• Oh, you're past it. The old cove came down like a Wolfe on the fold about twenty rods back. A waterfall comes down where he went up.' 1 Oh, wuz it the cove ye wanted, sorr,' put in our driver, as if that put quite a new face on the matter. 'Ah 1' said the traveller, ' that's what comes of hiring a French driver. ' Who's French 1' ' You ure and you know it.' 'Yer a loier, ye—big yer pardon, ledy, I forgot mesilf for the moment. I—'

'Come, you're forgetting a good many things ; you forgot Wolfe's Cove. Drive back, please,' I said. The traveller added to the international unpleasantness by saying to the driver :

'Talsez you no sevez nen— allezdonc! Rctumez.'

' None o' yer gibberish to me, ye spalpeen. It's a County Cork Frinchmaan Oi am, an' Oi've ' ' Come, now, we've had enough—get back.'

As we rattled past the place a shout from the traveller caused Pat to rein up, and the man behind waved his hand to show that we were at the spot.

•There's the identical place, sorr. Wolfe's Cove, sorr. Ye see, sorr, I didn't know it wuz the cove ye wanted to—'

4Of course not. That's all right. I suppose he went up that waterfall.' _ ' The shtrame wuz dhroy at the toime sorr.' ' Are you I' *Am Oi what, sorr ? Oh, Oi see— ah, yis, yer annar —always.' 1 Very well. We'll stay here and look at the cove. Here's some cash; I guess you can get something to drink at that tavern down the road.'

When Pat returned we continued our journey up the river. The high wooded shore on the opposite side was most beautiful in its autumnal tints of gold and purple and scarlet. Here and there a little white village stood out. On our own side the road was lined with pretty French cottages, with their hipped roofs and comfortable projecting eaves protecting the river-viewing balconies. Ahead of us and high up among the trees arose a tall, graceful church spire. The driver told us it was Lorette Church, but I found afterwards that it was Sillery Church, and that Lorette was nine or ten miles back from the river.

Finally we came to a little incloswe in which stood a small shaft with an inscription on the base.. When I ordered a halt the driver said,: • * It's an old Frinch burryin' ground, sorr.' It was, in fact, tho spot on which had stood centuries ago the little Jesuit chapel, the first erected in Canada. There had died the first Jesuit missionary, and the little monument was raised by the parish to commemorate the devotion of those wonderful men who left civilization to devote themselves to the savages and leave their bones at last in the wilderness.

Wo wanted to see the Jesuit residence where Mr Howells locates one of the prettiest incidents of his ' Chance Acquaintance,' but we could only conjecture which building it was, although the driver generously gave us the choice of half a dozen.

Then we slowly went up the -winding hill to the St. Louis road, a splendid aristocratic thoroughfare .that had all the beauty and perfection of an

English highway. On the right-hand side going towards Quebec are large ornamental grounds with fine houses overlooking the broad river. It was all very European. There was one spot the driver knew. That was the Governor's residence. He turned to the right, entered an open gateway, the ornamental iron gates of which were supported by •huge stone pillars, and we drove along a winding avenue in a densely wooded park. Finally we come to a long, low building—l should not say low, exactly—but low as compared with its length. A flag flying showed that the representative of the Queen for the Province of Quebec was at home, yet we drove right into the yard, passing within ten inches of the corner of the house and out by an archway to another avenue. This was certainly democratic enough, however royal the great park looked. When I'm Governor of Quebec I think I would like a little more seclusion. After that it was a short and pleasant drive back to the city.

' I hope, sorr, yer satisfied wid the droive.' ' Oh, yes.' c An' if Oi moight be so bold, sorr, cud ye spare a trifle for mesilf, sorr V ' Don't you own the calash ? Seems to me a man who has driven twentyfive years ought to have a rig of his own by this time.'

'So ho should, sorr, but toimes are hard, more's the pity, an' Oi've a woife and eliven childer, sorr, God bliss thim, and it's hard for a poor man—' lOf course it is. Well, here's fifty cents.'

'Ah, it's a ginerous gintlem;m ye are, good luck to yer 'rnnar, an' perhaps the ledy would not object to a troifle fur a poor man wid ' ' Now that's coming it a little too strong. The lady and I are in partnership. I thought half a dollar was enough for both.' Here the lady interposed—aside to me: 'Well, all right. Will this additional quarter satisfy you V * Shurc,sorr, it's very thankful ye make me this day. jThauk ye kindly," mem. Good day to you, sorr.' That evening as I walked towards the terrace a man met me and said : ' I hope you had a pleasant drive, today, sir.' ' Well—yes,' I answered, somewhat astonished, ' why do you ask 1' ' You see, I own the calash, and if I had known you were going out into the country I would have given you a driver that knew the road. Mike is a good driver—• —' 1 You mean Pat.' 'Well, Mike is the name I hired him under. He's just up from New \Tork, and only knows the Upper Town. I just keep him for driving to the station and back. He's only been in Quebec a week.' 1 Oh 1 Is his familywith him ?' ' He's a single man, sir. He belonged to the United States army, he tells me, and my opinion is he deserted. If you are going out to-morrow, sir, I could give you a driver thfet knows the roads and all the points of interest/