Driver Says She Is "One Of The French
People", And That Her Name Is Thibaudia, Which, With Its English
Signification (A Kind Of Heath), Seems Appropriate For One Living In
The Wilds, And Deliciously Foreign And Suggestive.
We wonder if old
Crumplehorn understands French, and conclude that she is a well educated
animal, as she seems to obey directions without needing a touch of
willow branch to punctuate them.
Sometimes it seems that the names conferred
On mortals at baptism in this queer world
Seem given for naught but to spite 'em.
Mr. Long is short, Mr. Short is tall,
And who so meek as Mr. Maul?
Mr. Lamb's fierce temper is very well known,
Mr. Hope plods about with sigh and groan, -
"And so proceed ad infinitum"
At one point on our route, when we are passing through a lonely and
apparently uninhabited region, our jolly driver, "Manyul", remarks,
"Here's where Nobody lives."; and one replies, "Yes, evidently; and I
shouldn't think any one would wish to." But a turn of the road brings a
house in sight; and driver says, "That's his house, and his name is
actually Nobody" (Charles, I believe). We quote, "What's in a name!"
and conclude that if he is at all like the kindly people of this region
whom we have met he may be well content to be nobody, rather than
resemble many whom the world considers "somebodies", but who are not
models in any respect.
Our driver is quite a character in his way, and in the winter he "goes
a loggin'". On learning this we ply him with questions in such manner as
would surprise a lawyer, eliciting in return graphic pictures of camp
life in New Brunswick wildernesses, and the amusements with which they
while away the long evenings in their rough barracks.
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