Even Cajun Kids Don't Know Evangeline Anymore. It's a Shame. I Had To Read Longfellow-They Should Too.

 I was in the coffee shop this morning talking to a young Cajun woman. She called herself a Coonass.  (Ok for her but not for you and me.)  I mentioned Evangeline, but she'd never heard of it.   I was appalled.  I polled the other people in the shop, all under 40, and none of them had either.  I extracted a promise from them that they would read it and that we would meet next Sunday at the same time to discuss it.  I implore all you old folks to impose it on any yewt you know and implore you yewts to read it. It don't get any better'n this:

All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow,
All the aching of the heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing,
All the dull, deep Pain, and constant anguish of patience. . . .

Only along the shore of the mournful and misty Atlantic
Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exile
Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom, ...
Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their kirtles of homespun,
And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline’s story.

Our yewt must not only learn of Evangeline and Acadie, but also know about The forest primeval. ... Ships passing in the night. ... Footprints on the sands of time. and that Life is real! Life is earnest! as only Hank Longfellow can tell them.

How can they recognize their talents without understanding our wonderful childhood rhyme "You're a poet, and you didn't know it. But your feet show it. They're longfellows!?"  Nuff said. 

I'm disappointed.  The yewt are not interested, and there is little support from my generation.  Here, thanks to Ken, is a slightly modified Cliff Notes version.