"Here's your section," he said indicating McCann's; "you can begin on this block--just squaring it for to-night." The man took his tools with a "Thank you," and went to work. The others watched him furtively, as Jim told Maggie afterwards "from the tail of me eye." He knew his work. They soon saw that. Every stroke told. The doors were shut at last and the electric lights turned on. Up to the stroke of four the men worked like automatons--_chip-chip-chipping_. Now and then there was some chaffing, good-natured if rough. The little Canuck, who by dint of running had caught the car, was working nearby. McCann called out to him: "I say, Antwine, where you'd be after gettin' that cap with the monkey ears?" "Bah gosh, Ah have get dis a Mo'real--at good marche--sheep." He stroked the small skin earlaps caressingly with one hand, then spat upon his palm and fell to work again. "Montreal is it? When did you go?" "Ah was went tree day--le Pere Honore tol' mah Ah better was go to mon maitre; he was dead las' week." "Wot yer givin' us, Antwine? Three days to see yer dead mater an' lavin' yer stiddy job for the likes of him, an' good luck yer come back this afternoon or the new man 'ud 'a' had it." "Ah, non--ah, non! De boss haf tol' mah, Ah was keep mah shob. Ah, non--ah, non. Ah was went pour l'amour de Pere Honore." "Damn yer lingo--shpake English, I tell you." Antoine grinned and shook his head. "Wot yer givin' us about his Riverince, eh?" "Le Pere Honore, hein? Ah-h-h-rr, le bon Pere Honore! Attendez--he tol' mah Ah was best non raconter--mais, Ah raconte you, Shim--" "Go ahead, Johnny Frog; let's hear." "Ah was been lee'l garcon--lee'l bebe, no pere; ma mere was been--how you say?--gypsee a cheval, hein?" he appealed to McCann. "You mane a gypsy that rides round the counthry?" Antoine nodded emphatically. "Yah--oui, gypsee a cheval, an' bars--" "Bears?" "Mais oui, bruins--bars; pour les faire dancer--" "You mane your mother was a gypsy that went round the counthry showin' off dancin' bears?" "Yah-oui. Ah mane so. She haf been seek--malade--how you say, petite verole--so like de Pere Honore?" He made with his forefinger dents in his face and forehead. "An' is it the shmall pox yer mane?" "Yah-oui, shmall pookes. She was haf it, an' tout le monde--how you say?--efferybodyee was haf fear. She was haf nottin' to eat--nottin' to drrink; le Pere Honore was fin' her in de bois--foret, an' was been tak' ma pauvre mere in hees ahrms, an' he place her in de sugair-house, an' il l'a soignee--how you say?" He appealed to the Italian whose interest was on the increase. "Nurrsed?" "Yah--oui, nurrsed her, an' moi aussi--lee'l bebe'--" "D' yer mane his Riverince nursed you and yer mother through the shmall pox?" demanded McCann. Several of the workmen stopped short with hammers uplifted to hear Antoine's answer.