Other editions of book Cape Breton Tales

Cape Breton Tales by Harry James SmithSummer comes late along the Cape Breton shore; and even while it stays there is something a little diffident and ticklish about it, as if each clear warm day might perhaps be the last. Though by early June the fields are in their first emerald, there are no flowers yet. The little convent girls who carry the banners at the head of the Corpus Christi procession at Arichat wear wreaths of artificial lilies of the valley and marguerites over their white veils, and often enough their teeth chatter with cold before the completion of the long march—out from the church portals westward by the populous street, then up through the steep open fields to the old Calvary on top of the hill, then back to the church along the grass-grown upper road, far above the roofs, in full view of the wide bay.Despite some discomforts, the procession is a very great event; every house along the route is decked out with bunting or flags or a bright home-made carpet, hung from a window. Pots of tall geraniums in scarlet bloom have been set out on the steps; and numbers of little evergreen trees, or birches newly in leaf, have been brought in from the country and bound to the fences. Along the roadside are gathered all the Acadians from the neighboring parishes, devoutly gay, enchanted with the pious spectacle. The choir, following after the richly canopied Sacrament and swinging censers, are chanting psalms of benediction and thanksgiving; banners and flags and veils flutter in the wind; the harbor, ice-bound so many months, is flecked with dancing white-caps and purple shadows: surely summer cannot be far off."When once the ice has done passing down there," they say—"which may happen any time now—you will see! Perhaps all in a day the change will come. The fog that creeps in so cold at night—it will all be sucked up; the sky will be clear as glass down to the very edge of the water. Ah, the fine season it will be!"That is the way summer arrives on the Acadian shore: everything bursting pell-mell into bloom; daisies and buttercups and August flowers rioting in the fields, lilacs and roses shedding their fragrance in sheltered gardens; and over all the world a drench of unspeakable sunlight.You could never forget your first sight of Arichat if you entered its narrow harbor at this divine moment. Steep, low hills, destitute of trees, set a singularly definite sky-line just behind; and the town runs—dawdles, rather—in a thin, wavering band for some miles sheer on the edge of the water. Eight or ten wharves, some of them fallen into dilapidation, jut out at intervals from clumps of weatherbeaten storehouses; and a few small vessels, it may be, are lying up alongside or anchored idly off shore. Only the occasional sound of a creaking block or of a wagon rattling by on the hard roadway breaks the silence.

CONTENTS ON THE FRENCH SHORE OF CAPE BRETON (1908) 1 LA ROSE WITNESSETH (1908) 17 OF THE BUCHERONS 19 OF LA BELLE MÉLANIE 32 OF SIMÉON'S SON 44 AT A BRETON CALVAIRE (1903) 57 THE PRIVILEGE (1910) 61 THEIR TRUE LOVE (1910) 77 GARLANDS FOR PETTIPAW (1915) 99 FLY, MY HEART (1915) 119ON THE FRENCH SHORE OF CAPE BRETONSummer comes late along the Cape Breton shore; and even while it staysthere is something a little diffident and ticklish about it, as if eachclear warm day might perhaps be the last. Though by early June thefields are in their first emerald, there are no flowers yet. The littleconvent girls who carry the banners at the head of the Corpus Christiprocession at Arichat wear wreaths of artificial lilies of the valleyand marguerites over their white veils, and often enough their teethchatter with cold before the completion of the long march--out from thechurch portals westward by the populous street, then up through thesteep open fields to the old Calvary on top of the hill, then back tothe church along the grass-grown upper road, far above the roofs, infull view of the wide bay.Despite some discomforts, the procession is a very great event; everyhouse along the route is decked out with bunting or flags or a brighthome-made carpet, hung from a window. Pots of tall geraniums in scarletbloom have been set out on the steps; and numbers of little evergreentrees, or birches newly in leaf, have been brought in from the countryand bound to the fences. Along the roadside are gathered all theAcadians from the neighboring parishes, devoutly gay, enchanted withthe pious spectacle. The choir, following after the richly canopiedSacrament and swinging censers, are chanting psalms of benediction andthanksgiving; banners and flags and veils flutter in the wind; theharbor, ice-bound so many months, is flecked with dancing white-caps andpurple shadows: surely summer cannot be far off."When once the ice has done passing _down there_," they say--"which mayhappen any time now--you will see! Perhaps all in a day the change willcome. The fog that creeps in so cold at night--it will all be sucked up;the sky will be clear as glass down to the very edge of the water. Ah,the fine season it will be!"

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This is a pre-1923 historical reproduction that was curated for quality. Quality assurance was conducted on each of these books in an attempt to remove books with imperfections introduced by the digitization process. Though we have made best efforts - the books may have occasional errors that do not impede the reading experience. We believe this work is culturally important and have elected to bring the book back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide.

This is a pre-1923 historical reproduction that was curated for quality. Quality assurance was conducted on each of these books in an attempt to remove books with imperfections introduced by the digitization process. Though we have made best efforts - the books may have occasional errors that do not impede the reading experience. We believe this work is culturally important and have elected to bring the book back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide. This text refers to the Bibliobazaar edition.

Excerpt from Cape Breton TalesWhen once the ice has done passing down there, they say which may happen any time now - you will see! Perhaps all in a day the change will come. The fog that creeps in so cold at night it will all be sucked up; the sky will be clear as glass down to the very edge of the water. Ah, the fine season it will be!About the PublisherForgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.comThis book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the original. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions that are true to the original work.

About the Book Fairy tales, wonder tales, magic tales are a folklore genre taking the form of a short story that typically includes magical beings such as dragons, elves, fairies, giants, gnomes, goblins, griffins, mermaids, talking animals, trolls, unicorns, or witches. Generally, magic or enchantments are involved. Fairy tales are distinguished from legends, are mainly derived from European tradition and folk lore, and are generally children's literature. Mythology has a broader and older pedigree than fairy tales, dating back to ancient times in a number of European, African, Middle Eastern and Asian civilizations. Best known among these to Western audiences are Ancient Greek and Old Norse myths and legends. Generally, these myths and legends describe epic quests, journeys and interactions between human adventurers or heroes and god-like deities. Also in this Book A short story collection is a book that contains short stories written by a single author. It is distinguished from an anthology of fiction, which includes stories by more than one author. About us Leopold Classic Library has the goal of making available to readers the classic books that have been out of print for decades. While these books may have occasional imperfections, we consider that only hand checking of every page ensures readable content without poor picture quality, blurred or missing text etc. That's why we: republish only hand checked books; that are high quality; enabling readers to see classic books in original formats; that are unlikely to have missing or blurred pages. You can search "Leopold Classic Library" in categories of your interest to find other books in our extensive collection. Happy reading!

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1920 edition. Excerpt: ... la rose witnesseth Of The Bucherons Of La Belle Melanie Of Simeon's Son la rose witnesseth Of How the Bucherons Were Punished for Their Hard Hearts T was a boy of ten who listened to La Rose, and while he listened, the sun stood still in the sky, there was an enchantment on all the world. Whatever La Rose said you had to believe, somehow. Oh, I assure you, no one could be more exacting than she in the matter of proofs. For persons who would give an ear to any absurd story tattled abroad she had nothing but contempt. "Before you believe a thing," said La Rose, sagely, "you must know whether it is true or not. That is the most important part of a story." She would give a decisive nod to her small head and shut her lips together almost defiantly. Yet always, somewhere in the corner of her alert gray eye, there seemed to be lurking the ghost of a twinkle. La Rose had no age. She was both very young and very old. For all she had never traveled more than ten miles from the little Cape Breton town of Port l'Eveque, you had the feeling that she had seen a good deal of the world, and it is certain that her life had not been easy; yet she would laugh as quickly and abundantly as a young girl just home from the convent. These two were the best of comrades. La Rose had been the boy's nurse when he was little, and as he had no mother she had kept a feeling of special affection and responsibility for him. Thus it happened that whenever she was making some little expedition out across the harbor--say for blueberries on the barrens, or white moorberries, or ginseng--she would get permission from the captain for Michel to go with her; and this was the happiest privilege in the boy's life. Most of all because of the stories La Rose would tell him. La Rose...