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Language, like life, is all about the survival of the fittest. Those early Canadian settlers stewed together in town squares, one-room schoolhouses and church pews. They talked. They wanted to be understood. So common expressions and speech patterns were commonly used. Linguistic quirks and dialects died away. The strong survived.

We don’t all speak the same language, all the time: Does anybody outside of Saskatchewan know what a bunny hug is? But for the most part the Canadian on the phone in Ottawa sounds like the Canadian in Calgary, and Vancouver. (Linguistic redoubts — Newfoundland — persist, proudly, as exceptions).

Easily the most depressing thing Prof. Tagliamonte had to say to me — a 40ish, hockey-loving, beer-drinking hoser — about Canadian English was that “eh,” that great marker of Canadian speech, is on its way out. Kids today use “right” in “eh’s” rightful place.

“We might see the end of eh,” the professor says.

Andrew Hinkle is a veteran Canadian accent and voice instructor in Toronto. His job, which pays him $75 an hour, involves teaching English-speaking immigrant professionals to communicate more effectively with Canadians.

“It is often a matter of rhythm,” he says. “Canadians speak from here [pointing from his chest to the top of his neck].”

What has surprised him most in his work is that some immigrants want to retain their accents. Often the guy from China, or France, or India, doesn’t want to sound like the guy from Calgary.

“They don’t want to fit in, exactly,” Mr. Hinkle says. “They like their accents.”

Says Prof. Tagliamonte: “We are very tied to the way we speak. And I think as Canadians we should sound like Canadians, even if we get razzed about it.”

Amen to that, eh.