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Date: 1866-11-19
By: Montreal Herald
Citation: “The School Question Settled” Montreal Herald (19 November 1866).
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THE SCHOOL QUESTION SETTLED.

[The following “Document” was found, “after the departure of the Delegate,” at Bonaventure Station. The signature was nearly illegible, all that could be made out being G. E. . . . . . . . , and some letters bearing a slight resemblance to M.P.P.:—]

How happy could I be with either,

Were t’other dear charmer away,—

But ’tis plain to be seen I can satisfy neither,

So must change my tale day after day.

Galt will tell the Gazette any story I want,

While I quietly inspire the Minerve;

‘Tis suspicious, no doubt, for a man of strict truth

To maintain this judicious reserve.

“Touch my honour,” says Paddy, in story oft told,

“Touch my Life; take your poker; I’ll go,”

Now my honour to me is much dearer than gold,

At least so I’ve sworn, high and low.

And I’ve promised, with vows, strong as Stygian Jove,

On the word of a gentleman brave,

That sooner the rock from its firm base shall move

Than I’ll flinch from the promise I gave,—

On that night when in Hall of St. Lawrence I sat,

Surrounded by true-hearted friends,

Who each swears he loves me, not what he can get,

As his stomach with wine he distends.

How sweet then the unbought applause of the crowd,

Of the noble, the wealthy, the great,

Not to speak of the small, who would shout long and loud

After wine and the dinner they’d ate.

‘Tis true that the dinner was hard to get up,

(There are people who’re stingy all know)

But one had a contract, another had hope

Of a place, or add one, and must go.

Besides, what’s a few tickets at five dollars each,

‘Tis one more to contingency list.

If a dinner’s beyond any poor fellow’s reach,

Who can cheer loud—why should he be missed?

To be sure the poor lads who’d never tasted champagne,

To whom very small beer was a boon,

When they kept quaffing bumpers along with their soup,

Got excited a great deal too soon.

Some whistled like steamers, some cheered and hurraed,

Till the Mayor, over come with chagrin,

Got up from his chair, e’er the dinner was o’er,

And shouted “We’ll drink to the Queen.”

The first toasts had been drunk and the gallant St. John

Of his forts and defence told the plan,

When I rose in reply to tumultuous shouts

For the great representative man.

‘Tis true shaggy eyebrows, and little black eyes,

Short legs and a form small and squat,

Give me all the appearance, when at en’mies I fly,

Of a terrier shaking a rat.

But what does that matter, I gave them a speech,

Running over my former career;

But I wisely concealed,—or I kept out of sight,

Many stories I’d reason to fear.

Like the dusky Othello, my hair-breadth escapes

I told—and the people I’d met,

Of the chances disastrous, from Rouges and Grits,

Of the Cannibals who each other ate.—

Yet I added, behold me, a hale hearty man,

Not used up by my eighteen years strife,

But ready to struggle for place and for power,

And sweet patronage hold all my life,

At that case a cheer from those unselfish friends,

Who’d no thought of a place in their heart,

For the two filthy motives that tempt many men,

In their pure minds could never have part.

So I boldly announced that, alone by myself,

I’d soon put all discontent down,—

Though McDougall might growl, and poor Howland might squeak,

Or in Globe roar the patriot George Brown.

For I’d pledged my true word—’tis the word of a Knight,

(That’s to come when as Gov’ner I rule)

That I’d guarantee settle—would give mutual checks,

And arrange all the laws about school.

‘Tis true that a day or two scarcely had passed

When afraid of their shadows—the fools!

The Gazette told a story quite different from mine,

‘Bout those dear Upper Canada Schools.

But I told the Minerve just to stick to the point,

Nor to mind what her confrere might say,

For so Parliament’s ended, and Union dissolved,

Bas Canada must carry the day.

I got over my trouble, it haunts me no more,

But what’s to become of John A.?

Just leave him alone to get clear of a scrape

Till for Britain he’s fairly away.

For when busily packing his bran new Court suit,

He hastily scribbled a note,

To say that the Country would learn all our plans

When he, Howland and I’d caught the boat.