human
That was truly his name, M'sieu'—Raoul Vaillantcœur—a name of the fine sound, is it not? But me—I think sometimes those grand names attach themselves not to the proper men. It is like the time when the guide-post of the four roads, beside Chicoutimi, blows down from the big storm, and Telesphore Gauthier, he sets him up once more. That Telesphore there, he knows not to read, not so much as the fool caribou. It is the mercy of God, now, what road you take, unless you know him already.