TO MT. SYLVESTER WITH THE MICMACS 269 



" Those very bad men, them St. Pierre policemen," said 

 Matty suddenly, one evening, and evidently expecting me 

 to acquiesce, for the stage villain's eyes flashed, and he was 

 burning under the injustice of some fancied wrong. 



"What did they do to you?" 



"Enough — for I would kill them all could I do so. 

 They are bad men, and take me to prison when I made 

 not the row. Las' summer I go in a brig to St. Pierre, and 

 one night in the cafe we had good times — about thirty of 

 us — English, French, American, and Newfun'lan' fishermen. 

 I was drunk — yes — very drunk — yet I commence not the 

 row. Bimeby a feller pull out his knife, so I go for the 

 door, and tumble on the wooden steps. As I come out a 

 policeman come in, and we fall together into the street. 

 Then the devil he grab me, and say I must go to the prison 

 house with him, which I not like, and so resist him much. 

 He take me by the arm, so I hit him with all my strength 

 between the eyes, and he drop like a shot stag. Just then 

 I try to run, but my legs are no use, when four more police- 

 men come up and put iron things on my hands ; but I fight 

 hard and bite two of them all over, so that we are all 

 covered with blood. Then they are too strong for me, and 

 they put me in a cold stone house where I cannot get out, 

 though I tried hard. In the morning I say to the man that 

 lock the door, ' I give you four dollars if you let me out,' 

 but he only laugh and say I must see de magistrate. Dat 

 feller makes me pay ten dollars, all I had. The cunning 

 rascal, he puts it in his pocket to get drunk with no doubt. 

 It was all too bad. I done nothing, and not commence the 

 row." Simple Matty, he could not understand that getting 

 blind drunk and half-killing a gendarme was not the best 

 way to behave in a foreign port. 



