J'irai la voir un jour,
M'asseoir pres de son trone,
Recevoir ma couronne
Et regner a mon tour ...

His voice was strong and true, and he used the full volume of it,
singing with deep fervour; but ere long his eyes began to close and
his chin to drop toward his breast. Driving always made him sleepy,
and the horse, aware that the usual drowsiness had possession of his
master, slackened his pace and at length fell to a walk.

"Get up there, Charles Eugene!"

He had suddenly waked and put his hand out for the whip. Charles
Eugene resigned himself and began to trot again. Many generations
ago a Chapdelaine cherished a long feud with a neighbour who bore
these names, and had forthwith bestowed them upon an old, tired,
lame horse of his, that he might give himself the pleasure every day
when passing the enemy's house of calling out very loudly:--
"Charles Eugene, ill-favoured beast that you are! Wretched, badly
brought up creature! Get along, Charles Eugene!" For a whole century
the quarrel was dead and buried; but the Chapdelaines ever since had
named their successive horses Charles Eugene.

Once again the hymn rose in clear ringing tones, intense with
feeling:--

Au ciel, au ciel, au ciel,
J'irai la voir un jour . .