Both the French and English languages are spoken by the ministers of the Crown, and it is to be regretted that Upper Canadians are not more sensible of the value of possessing a knowledge of two languages. Many are, of course, taught the French as an accomplishment, but few can speak it fluently. In Lower Canada, where both languages are spoken and required in business, the knowledge is more appreciated. The French habitants or peasants are a merry, contented, laughter-loving, light-hearted people. The men spend the winters in the woods or timber limits, felling the timber, hewing the great logs or drawing them by the aid of horses or oxen to the surface of the frozen rivers, and the summers in “driving” the logs, enclosing them in the booms (logs with ends fastened together by chains to form a barrier or enclosure for the loose floating logs), and in taking the great rafts down the St. Lawrence to Quebec. Many a river shore in Upper Canada re-echoes the songs of the French-Canadian lumberman or voyageur in the twilight of a summer evening. They are men of fine physique and many have strong sweet musical voices. The songs, with the accompaniment of the lap of the water, the rhythmic sound of oar or paddle, the soft breeze swaying the trees, and the murmur of the distant rapid or waterfall, are among the things to be enjoyed. “La Claire Fontaine” is one of the favorite songs of these men. I append here a translation, which robs it to some extent of its lightsome character. The repetition of the last two lines in the verse as the first two of the following is characteristic of several of the best known of these _chansons_, and adds much to their popularity. A LA CLAIRE FONTAINE. Unto the crystal fountain For pleasure did I stray; So fair I found the waters, My limbs in them I lay. Long is it I have loved thee, Thee shall I love alway, My dearest. So fair I found the waters, My limbs in them I lay; Beneath an oak tree resting, I heard a roundelay. Long is it, etc. Beneath an oak tree resting, I heard a roundelay; The nightingale was singing On the oak tree’s topmost spray. Long is it, etc. The nightingale was singing On the oak tree’s topmost spray-- Sing, nightingale, keep singing, Thou who hast heart so gay! Long is it, etc. Sing, nightingale, keep singing, Thou hast a heart so gay! Thou hast a heart so merry, While mine is sorrow’s prey. Long is it, etc. Thou hast a heart so merry While mine is sorrow’s prey, For I have lost my mistress, Flown from her love away. Long is it, etc. For I have lost my mistress, Flown from her love away; All for a bunch of roses, Whereof I said her nay. Long is it, etc.