Shawl-Straps, Page 3

  II.

  _BRITTANY._

  After a late dinner, at which their appetites were pretty effectuallytaken away by seeing dishes of snails passed round and eaten like nuts,with large pins to pick out the squirming meat; a night's rest somewhatdisturbed by the incessant clatter of _sabots_ in the market-place, anda breakfast rendered merry by being served by a _garcon_ whom Dickenswould have immortalised, our travellers went on to Caulnes-Dinan.

  Here began their adventures, properly speaking. They were obliged todrive fourteen miles to Dinan in a ram-shackle carriage drawn by threefierce little horses, with their tails done up in braided chignons, anddriven by a humpback. This elegant equipage was likewise occupied by asleepy old priest, who smoked his pipe without stopping the whole way;also by a large, loquacious, beery man, who talked incessantly,informing the company that he was a friend of Victor Hugo, a child ofnature aged sixty, and obliged to drink much ale because it went to hishead and gave him commercial ideas.

  If it had given him no others it would have done well; but, after eachdraught, and he took many, this child of nature became so friendly thateven the free and easy Americans were abashed. Matilda quailed beforethe languishing glances he gave her, and tied her head up like a bundlein a thick veil. The scandalised Lavinia, informing him that she didnot understand French, assumed the demeanour of a griffin, and glaredstonily into space, when she was not dislocating her neck trying to seeif the top-heavy luggage had not tumbled off behind.

  Poor Amanda was thus left a prey to the beery one; for, having at firstcourteously responded to his paternal remarks and expressed an interestin the state of France, she could not drop the conversation all at once,even when the friend of Victor Hugo became so disagreeable that it is tobe hoped the poet has not many such. He recited poems, he sung songs, hemade tender confidences, and finished by pressing the hand ofMademoiselle to his lips. On being told that such demonstrations werenot permitted to strangers in America, he beat his breast and criedout, 'My God, so beautiful and so cold! You do not comprehend that I ambut a child. Pardon, and smile again I conjure you.'

  But Mademoiselle would not smile; and, folding her hands in her cloak,appeared to slumber. Whereat the gray-headed infant groanedpathetically, cast his eyes heavenward, and drank more ale, muttering tohimself, and shaking his head as if his emotions could not be entirelysuppressed.

  These proceedings caused Lavinia to keep her eye on him, being preparedfor any outbreak, from a bullet all round to proposals to both hercharges at once.

  With this smouldering bomb-shell inside, and the firm conviction thatone if not all the trunks were lying in the dust some miles behind, itmay be inferred that duenna Livy did not enjoy that break-neck drive,lurching and bumping up hill and down, with nothing between them anddestruction apparently but the little humpback, who drove recklessly.

  In this style they rattled up to the Porte de Brest, feeling that theyhad reached Dinan 'only by the grace of God,' as the beery man expressedit, when he bowed and vanished, still oppressed with the gloomydiscovery that American women did not appreciate him.

  While Amanda made inquiries at an office, and Matilda had raptures overthe massive archway crowned with yellow flowers, Lavinia was edified bya new example of woman's right to labour.

  Close by was a clean, rosy old woman, whose unusual occupation attractedour spinster's attention. Whisking off the wheels of a _diligence_, theold lady greased them one by one, and put them on again with the skilland speed of a regular blacksmith, and then began to pile many parcelsinto a _char_ apparently waiting for them.

  She was a brisk, cheery old soul, with the colour of a winter-apple inher face, plenty of fire in her quick black eyes, and a mouthful of fineteeth, though she must have been sixty. She was dressed in the costumeof the place: a linen cap with several sharp gables to it, a gaykerchief over her shoulders, a blue woollen gown short enough to displaya pair of sturdy feet and legs in neat shoes with bunches of ribbons onthe instep and black hose. A gray apron, with pockets and a bib,finished her off; making a very sensible as well as picturesque costume.

  She was still hard at it when a big boy appeared, and began to heave thetrunks into another _char_; but gave out at the second, which waslarge. Instantly the brisk old woman put him aside, hoisted in the bigboxes without help, and, catching up the shafts of the heavily ladencart, trotted away with it at a pace which caused the Americans (whoprided themselves on their muscle) to stare after her in blankamazement.

  When next seen she was toiling up a steep street, still ahead of thelazy boy, who slowly followed with the lighter load. It did not suitLavinia's ideas of the fitness of things to have an old woman trundlethree heavy trunks while she herself carried nothing but a parasol, andshe would certainly have lent a hand if the vigorous creature had notgone at such a pace that it was impossible to overtake her till shebacked her cart up before a door in most scientific style, and with abow, a smile, and a courteous wave of the hand, informed them that'here the ladies would behold the excellent Madame C.'

  They did behold and also receive a most cordial welcome from the goodlady, who not only embraced them with effusion, but turned her houseupside down for their accommodation, merely because they camerecommended to her hospitality by a former lodger who had won her kindold heart.

  While she purred over them, the luggage was being bumped upstairs, theold woman shouldering trunk after trunk, and trudging up two steepflights in the most marvellous way. But best of all was her surprise andgratitude on receiving a larger fee than usual, for the ladies were muchinterested in this dear old Hercules in a cap of seven gables.

  When she had blessed them all round, and trotted briskly away with hercarts, Madame C. informed the new-comers that the worthy soul was awidow with many children, whom she brought up excellently, supportingthem by acting as porter at the hotel. Her strength was wonderful, andshe was very proud of it--finding no work too hard, yet always neat,cheery, and active; asking no help, and literally earning her dailybread by the sweat of her brow. The ladies often saw her afterward,always trotting and tugging, smiling and content, as if some unseenhands kept well greased the wheels of her own diligence, which carriedsuch a heavy load and never broke down.

  Miss Lavinia being interested in Woman's Rights and Wrongs, was muchimpressed by the new revelations of the capabilities of her sex, andsoon ceased to be surprised at any demonstration of feminine strength,skill, and independence, for everywhere the women took the lead.

  They not only kept house, reared children, and knit every imaginablegarment the human frame can wear, but kept the shops and the markets,tilled the gardens, cleaned the streets, and bought and sold cattle,leaving the men free to enjoy the only pursuits they seemed inclined tofollow--breaking horses, mending roads, and getting drunk.

  The markets seemed entirely in the hands of the women, and lively scenesthey presented to unaccustomed eyes, especially the pig-market, heldevery week, in the square before Madame C.'s house. At dawn thesquealing began, and was kept up till sunset. The carts came in from allthe neighbouring hamlets, with tubs full of infant pigs, over which thewomen watched with maternal care till they were safely deposited amongthe rows of tubs that stood along the walk facing Anne of Bretaigne'sgrey old tower, and the pleasant promenade which was once the _fosse_about the city walls.

  Here Madame would seat herself and knit briskly till a purchaserapplied, when she would drop her work, dive among the pink innocents,and hold one up by its unhappy leg, undisturbed by its doleful cries,while she settled its price with a blue-gowned, white-capped neighbouras sharp-witted and shrill-tongued as herself. If the bargain wasstruck, they slapped their hands together in a peculiar way, and the newowner clapped her purchase into a meal-bag, slung it over her shoulder,and departed with her squirming, squealing treasure as calmly as aBoston lady with a satchel full of ribbons and gloves.

  More mature pigs came to market on their own legs, and very long,feeble legs they were, for a more unsightly beast than a Breton pig w
asnever seen out of a toy Noah's ark. Tall, thin, high-backed, andsharp-nosed, these porcine victims tottered to their doom, with dismalwailings, and not a vestige of spirit till the trials and excitement ofthe day goaded them to rebellion, when their antics furnished fun forthe public. Miss Livy observed that the women could manage the pigs whenmen failed entirely. The latter hustled, lugged, or lashed, unmercifullyand unsuccessfully; the former, with that fine tact which helps them tolead nobler animals than pigs, would soothe, sympathise, coax, andgently beguile the poor beasts, or devise ways of mitigating theirbewilderment and woe, which did honour to the sex, and triumphantlyillustrated the power of moral suasion.

  One amiable lady, who had purchased two small pigs and a coop full offowls, attempted to carry them all on one donkey. But the piggiesrebelled lustily in the bags, the ducks remonstrated against theirunquiet neighbours, and the donkey indignantly refused to stir a steptill the unseemly uproar was calmed. But the Bretonne was equal to theoccasion; for, after a pause of meditation, she solved the problem bytying the bags round the necks of the pigs, so that they could enjoy theprospect. This appeased them at once, and produced a general lull; forwhen the pigs stopped squealing, the ducks stopped quacking, the donkeyceased his bray, and the party moved on in dignified silence, with theyouthful pigs, one black, one white, serenely regarding life from theirbags.

  Another time, a woman leading a newly-bought cow came through thesquare, where the noise alarmed the beast so much that she becameunruly, and pranced in a most dangerous manner. Miss Livy hung out ofthe window, breathless with interest, and ready to fly with brandy andbandages at a minute's notice, for it seemed inevitable that the womanwould be tossed up among the lindens before the cow was conquered. Thefew men who were lounging about stood with their hands in their pockets,watching the struggle without offering to help, till the cow scooped thelady up on her horns, ready for a toss. Livy shrieked, but Madame justheld on, kicking so vigorously that the cow was glad to set her down,when, instead of fainting, she coolly informed the men, who, seeing herdanger, had approached, that she 'could arrange her cow for herself, anddid not want any help,' which she proved by tying a big bluehandkerchief over the animal's eyes, producing instant docility, andthen she was led away by her flushed but triumphant mistress, who calmlysettled her cap, and took a pinch of snuff to refresh herself, after ascuffle which would have annihilated most women.

  When Madame C.'s wood was put in, the new-comers were interested inwatching the job, for it was done in a truly Bretonesque manner. Itarrived in several odd carts, each drawn by four great horses, with twomen to each team; and as the carts were clumsy, the horses wild, and themen stupid, the square presented a lively spectacle. At one time therewere three carts, twelve horses, and six men, all in a snarl, while adozen women stood at their doors and gave advice. One was washing alettuce, another dressing her baby, a third twirling her distaff, and afourth with her little bowl of soup, which she ate in public whilegesticulating so frantically that her _sabots_ clattered on the stones.

  The horses had a free fight, and the men swore and shouted in vain, tillthe lady with the baby suddenly went to the rescue. Planting the nakedcherub on the door-step, this energetic matron charged in among therampant animals, and by some magic touch untangled the teams, quietedthe most fractious, a big grey brute, prancing like a mad elephant; thenreturned to her baby, who was placidly eating dirt, and with a polite'_Voila, messieurs!_' she whipped little Jean into his shirt, while themen sat down to smoke.

  It took two deliberate men nearly a week to split the gnarled logs, andone brisk woman carried them into the cellar and piled them neatly. Themen stopped about once an hour to smoke, drink cider, or rest. Thewoman worked steadily from morning till night, only pausing at noon fora bit of bread and the soup good Coste sent out to her. The men got twofrancs a day, the woman half a franc; and as nothing was taken out of itfor wine or tobacco, her ten cents probably went further than theirforty.

  This same capable lady used to come to market with a baby on one arm, abasket of fruit on the other, leading a pig, driving a donkey, andsurrounded by sheep, while her head bore a pannier of vegetables, andher hands spun busily with a distaff. How she ever got on with thesetrifling incumbrances was a mystery; but there she was, busy, placid,and smiling, in the midst of the crowd, and at night went home with hershopping well content.

  The washerwomen were among the happiest of these happy souls, andnowhere were seen prettier pictures than they made, clustered round thefountains or tanks by the way, scrubbing, slapping, singing, andgossiping, as they washed or spread their linen on the green hedges anddaisied grass in the bright spring weather. One envied the cheery facesunder the queer caps, the stout arms that scrubbed all day, and were nottoo tired to carry home some chubby Jean or little Marie when nightcame; and, most of all, the contented hearts in the broad bosoms underthe white kerchiefs, for no complaint did one hear from thesehard-working, happy women. The same brave spirit seems to possess themnow as that which carried them heroically to their fate in theRevolution, when hundreds of mothers and children were shot at Nantesand died without a murmur.

  But of all the friends the strangers made among them they liked oldMere Oudon best--a shrivelled leaf of a woman, who at ninety-two stillsupported her old husband of ninety-eight. He was nearly helpless, andlay in bed most of the time, smoking, while she peeled willows at a soua day, trudged up and down with herbs, cresses, or any little thing shecould find to sell. Very proud was she of her 'master,' his great age,his senses still quite perfect, and most of all his strength, for nowand then the old tyrant left his bed to beat her, which token ofconjugal regard she seemed to enjoy as a relic of early days, and aproof that he would long be spared to her.

  She kept him exquisitely neat, and if anyone gave her a plate of food, alittle snuff, or any small comfort for her patient old age, she took itstraight to the 'master,' and found a double happiness in giving andseeing him enjoy it.

  She had but one eye, her amiable husband having put out the other onceon a time as she was leading him home tipsy from market. The kind soulbore no malice, and always made light of it when forced to tell how theaffliction befell her.

  'My Yvon was so gay in his young days, truly, yes, a fine man, and nowmost beautiful to see in his clean bed, with the new pipe thatMademoiselle sent him. Come, then, and behold him, my superb master, whoat ninety-eight has still this strength so wonderful.'

  The ladies never cared to see him more than once, but often met thetruly beautiful old wife as she toiled to and fro, finding her faithfullove more wonderful than his strength, and feeling sure that when shelies at last on her 'clean bed,' some good angel will repay theseninety-two hard years with the youth and beauty, happiness and rest,which nothing can destroy.

  Not only did the women manage the affairs of this world, but had moreinfluence than men with the good powers of heaven. A long droughtparched France that year, and even fertile Brittany suffered. More thanonce processions of women, led by priests, poured through the gates togo to the Croix du Saint Esprit and pray for rain.

  'Why don't the men go also?' Miss Livy asked.

  'Ah! they pray to the Virgin, and she listens best to women,' was theanswer.

  She certainly seemed to do so, for gracious showers soon fell, and thelittle gardens bloomed freshly where the mothers' hard hands had plantedcabbages, onions, and potatoes to feed the children through the longwinter.

  Nor were these the only tasks the women did. The good ladies had ahospital, and a neater, cheerier place was never seen; few invalids, butmany old people sitting in the sunny gardens, or at work in the cleanrooms. La Garaye is in ruins now, but the memory of its gentle ladystill lives, and is preserved in this benevolent institution for thesick, the old, and poor.

  A school for girls was kept by the good nuns, and the streets at certainhours were full of little damsels, with round caps on their braidedhair, queer long gowns of blue, white aprons and handkerchiefs, who wentclattering by in their wooden
shoes, bobbing little curtsies to theirfriends, and readily answering any questions inquisitive strangers askedthem. They learned to read, write, sew, and say the catechism. Also tosing; for, often as the ladies passed the little chapel of Our Lady, achorus of sweet young voices came to us, making the flowery gardenbehind the church of St. Sauveur a favourite resting-place.

  In endeavouring to account for the freedom of the women here, it wasdecided that it was owing to Anne of Brittany, the 'gentle and generousDuchesse,' to whom her husband Louis XII. allowed the uncontrolledgovernment of the duchy. Relics of the '_fiere Bretonne_,' as Louiscalled her, are still treasured everywhere, and it was pleasant to knownot only that she was an accomplished woman, writing tender letters inLatin verse to her husband, but also a wise and just Princess to herpeople, 'showing herself by spirit and independence to be the mostworthy of all her race to wear the ducal crown.' So three cheers forgood Duchesse Anne, and long life to the hardy, happy women of Brittany!

  While Miss Lavinia was making these observations and moralizing uponthem, the younger ladies were enjoying discoveries and experiences moreto their tastes.

  They had not been in the house half a day before Madame C. informed themthat 'Mademoiselle, the so charming miss whom they beheld at dinner, wasto be married very soon; and they should have the rapture of witnessinga wedding the most beautiful.'

  They welcomed the prospect with pleasure, for Dinan is not a whirl ofgaiety at the best of times: and that spring the drought, rumours ofwar, and fears of small-pox, cast a shadow upon the sunny little town.So they surveyed Mademoiselle Pelagie with interest, and longed tobehold the happy man who was to be blessed with the hand of this little,yellow-faced girl, with red eyes, dirty hands, and a frizzled crop, solike a wig they never could make up their minds that it was not.

  Madame, the mamma, a buxom, comely widow, who breakfasted in blackmoire, with a diadem of glossy braids on her sleek head, and many jetornaments rattling and glistening about her person, informed them, withvoluble affability, of the whole affair.

  'My brother, M. le President, had arranged the marriage. Pelagie wastwenty, and beautiful, as you behold. It was time to establish her. _MonDieu!_ yes; though my heart is lacerated to lose my angel, I consent. Iconduct her to a ball, that she may be seen by the young man whoseparents desire that he should espouse my infant. He beholds her. Hesays: "Great heavens, I adore her! My father, I consent." He ispresented to me; we converse. She regards him with the angelic modestyof a young girl, but speaks not. I approve, the parents meet, it isarranged, and Jules is betrothed to my Pelagie. They have not met since;but next week he comes for the marriage, and he will be permitted toaddress her in my presence. Ah, yes! your customs are not as ours, andto us seem of a deplorable freedom. Pardon that I say it.'

  On inquiring how Pelagie regarded her future lord, they found that shethought very little about him, but was absorbed in her _trousseau_,which she proudly displayed. To those accustomed to see and hear ofAmerican outfits, with their lavish profusion and extravagant elegance,poor little Pelagie's modest stores were not at all imposing. Half adozen pretty dresses from Paris; several amazing hats, all rosebuds,lace, and blue ribbon; a good deal of embroidery; and a few propheticcaps,--completed the outfit.

  One treasure, however, she was never tired of displaying,--a gift fromJules,--a camels'-hair shawl, in a black walnut case, on which wascarved the Clomadoc arms. A set of pearls were also from the bridegroom;but the shawl was her pride, for married women alone could wear such,and she seemed to think this right of more importance than any thewedding-ring could confer upon her.

  To the young ladies, both of whom had known many of the romanticexperiences which befall comely American girls, the idea of marrying aman whom they had only seen twice seemed horrible; and to have but oneweek of courtship, and that in Mamma's presence, was simply an insultand a wrong which they would not bear to think of.

  But Pelagie seemed quite content, and brooded over her finery like atrue Frenchwoman, showing very little interest in her Jules, and onlyanxious for the time to come when she could wear her shawl and beaddressed as Madame.

  While waiting for the grand event, the girls amused themselves withGaston, the brother of the bride-elect. He was a languid, good-lookingyouth of three-and-twenty, who assumed _blase_ airs and attitudinizedfor their benefit. Sometimes he was lost in fits of Byronic gloom, whenhe frowned over his coffee, sighed gustily, and clutched his brow,regardless of the curls, usually in ambrosial order. The damsels,instead of being impressed by this display of inward agony, only laughedat him, and soon rallied him out of his heroics. Then he would tryanother plan, and become all devotion, presenting green tulips, ancientcoins, early fruit, or sketches of his own, so very small that thedesign was quite obscure. If these delicate attentions failed to touchthe stony hearts of the blonde Americans, he would air his entirewardrobe, appearing before them one day in full Breton costume of whitecloth, embroidered in gay silks, buckled shoes, and hat adorned withstreaming ribbons and flowers. Quite Arcadian was Gaston in this attire;and very effective on the croquet ground, where sundry English familiesdisported themselves on certain afternoons. Another time he would gethimself up like a Parisian dandy bound for a ride in the Bois deBoulogne; and, mounting with much difficulty a rampant horse, he wouldcaracole about the Place St. Louis, to the great delight of the natives.

  But this proved a failure; for one of the fair but cruel strangersdonned hat and habit, and entirely eclipsed his glories by gallopingabout the country like an Amazon. The only time Gaston played escort shewas nearly the death of him, for he seldom did more than amble a mile ortwo, and a hard trot of some six or eight miles reduced our Adonis tosuch a state of exhaustion that he fell into his mother's arms ondismounting, and was borne away to bed with much lamentation.

  After that he contented himself with coming to show himself in fulldress whenever he went to a party; and, as that was nearly every otherevening, they soon got accustomed to hearing a tap at their door, andbeholding the comely youth in all the bravery of glossy broadcloth, alavish shirt-bosom, miraculous tie, primrose gloves, varnished shoes,and curls and moustache anointed and perfumed in the most exquisitestyle. He would bow and say '_Bon soir_,' then stand to be admired, withthe artless satisfaction of a child; after which he would smilecomplacently, wave his crush hat, and depart with a flourish.

  Dear, dandified, vain Gaston! His great desire was to go to Paris, andwhen the war came he had his wish; but found sterner work to do than todress and dance and languish at the feet of ladies. I hope it made a manof him, and fancy it did; for the French fight well and suffer bravelyfor the country they love in their melodramatic fashion.

  As the day approached for the advent of the bridegroom, great excitementprevailed in the quiet household. Madame C. and her handmaid, dear oldMarie, cackled and bustled like a pair of important hens. Madame F., thewidow, lived at the milliner's, so to speak, and had several dressrehearsals for her own satisfaction. Gaston mounted guard over hissister, lest some enamoured man should rend her from them ere her Julescould secure the prize. And Pelagie placidly ate and slept, kept herhair in crimping-pins from morning till night, wore out her old clothes,and whiled away the time munching _bonbons_ and displaying her shawl.

  'Mercy on us! I should feel like a lamb being fattened for the sacrificeif I were in her place,' cried one of the freeborn Americancitizenesses, with an air of unmitigated scorn for French ways ofconducting this interesting ceremony.

  'I should feel like a galley-slave,' said the other. 'For she can't goanywhere without Gaston or Mamma at her elbow. Only yesterday she wentinto a shop alone, while Gaston waited at the door. And when she told itat home as a great exploit all the ladies shrieked with horror at theidea, and Mamma said, wringing her hands: "_Mon Dieu!_ but they willthink thou art a married woman, for it is inconceivable that any girlshould do so bold a thing." And Pelagie wept, and implored them not totell Jules, lest he should discard her.'

  Here the Americans all groa
ned over the pathetic absurdity of the wholeaffair, and wondered with unrighteous glee what the decorous ladiesbelow would say to some of their pranks at home. But, fearing that M. lePresident might feel it his duty to eject them from the town asdangerous persons, they shrouded their past sins in the most discreetsilence, and assumed their primmest demeanour in public.

  'He has come! Look quick, girls!' cried Lavinia, as a carriage stoppedat the door, and a rushing sound, as of many agitated skirts, was heardin the hall. Three heads peeped from the window of the blue parlour, andthree pairs of curious eyes were rewarded by a sight of the bridegroom,as he alighted.

  Such a little man! Such a fierce moustache! Such a dignified strut! Andsuch an imposing uniform as he wore! For Jules Gustave Adolphe MarieClomadoc was a colonel in some regiment stationed at Boulogne. Out heskipped; in he marched; and, peeping over the banisters, they saw himsalute Madame F. with a stately kiss on the hand, then escort her up toher _salon_, bowing loftily, and twisting his tawny moustache with anair that gave him the effect of being six feet in height, and broad inproportion.

  How he greeted his _fiancee_ they knew not, but the murmur of voicescame from the room in steady flow for hours, and Gaston flew in and outwith an air of immense importance.

  At dinner the strangers were proudly presented to M. le Colonel, andreceived affable bows from the little man, who flattered himself that hecould talk English, and insisted on speaking an unknown tongue,evidently wondering at their stupidity in not understanding their ownlanguage.

  He escorted Madame down, sat between her and Pelagie, but talked only toher; while the girl sat silent and ate her dinner with an appetite whichno emotion could diminish. It was very funny to see the small warrior dohis wooing of the daughter through the mother; and the buxom widowplayed her part so well that an unenlightened observer would have said_she_ was the bride-elect. She smiled, she sighed, she discoursed, shecoquetted, and now and then plucked out her handkerchief and wept at thethought of losing the angel, who was placidly gnawing bones and wipingup the gravy on her plate with bits of bread.

  Jules responded with spirit, talked, jested, quoted poetry, paidcompliments right and left, and now and then passed the salt, filled aglass, or offered a napkin to his _fiancee_ with a French shrug and atender glance.

  After dinner Madame F. begged him to recite one of his poems; for itappeared this all-accomplished man was beloved of the muse, and twangedthe lyre as well as wielded the sword. With much persuasion and manymodest apologies, Jules at length consented, took his place upon therug, thrust one hand into his bosom, turned up his eyes, and, in atremendous voice, declaimed a pensive poem of some twenty stanzas,called 'Adieu to my past.'

  The poet's friends listened with rapt countenances and frequent burstsof emotion or applause; but the Americans suffered agonies, for thewhole thing was so absurdly melodramatic that it was with greatdifficulty they kept themselves from explosions of laughter. When thelittle man dropped his voice to a hoarse whisper, in bidding adieu tothe lost loves of his youth, tender-hearted old C. sobbed in her napkin;while Livy only saved herself from hysterics by drinking a glass ofwater, and Pelagie ate sugar, with her round eyes fixed on her lover'sface, without the slightest expression whatever.

  When the poet mourned his blighted hopes, and asked wildly of all theelements if he should live or die, Gaston cast reproachful glances atthe alien charmer who had nipped his passion in the bud; and when Julesgave a sudden start, slapped his brow, and declared that he would livefor his country, old Marie choked in her coffee, while Madame F. clappedher fat hands, and cried: 'It is sublime!'

  The poem closed there, and the providential appearance of their donkeysgave the ladies an excuse for retiring to their room, where they laughedtill they could laugh no more.

  Each meal was as good as a play, and every glimpse they had of thelittle pair gave fresh food for mirth. Everything was so formal andpolite, so utterly unlike the free-and-easy customs of their nativeland, that they were kept in alternate states of indignation andamusement the whole time. Jules never was alone with his Pelagie for aninstant; such a breach of etiquette would have shocked the entire town.In the walks and drives which the family took together, Madame wasalways at the Colonel's side; while Gaston escorted his sister, lookingas if he was fast reaching a state of mind when he would give her awaywithout a pang. Many guests came and went, much kissing and bowing,prancing and rustling, went on, up and down stairs. Stately oldgentlemen called, papers were signed, fortunes discussed, and giftsdisplayed. Pelagie went much to mass; also to the barber's and the bath.Agitated milliners flew in and out. A great load of trunks arrived fromNantes, where Madame formerly lived; and the day before the wedding awhole carriage full of Clomadocs appeared, and Babel seemed to have comeagain.

  A great supper was given that evening, and the Three were banished totheir own rooms; where, however, they fared sumptuously, for Madame C.and good old Marie ate with them, having no place left them but thekitchen. Madame C. was much hurt that she had not been asked to thewedding. It seemed the least Madame F. could do after taking possessionof the house, and turning its rightful owner out of every room but theattic. Madame C. was a gentlewoman; and though a meek old soul, thisrudeness hurt her very much. She said nothing; but Marie fumed andscolded fiercely, and proposed that the neglected ones should all goaway on the wedding-day, and make a _fete_ for themselves somewhere. Sothey decided to drive to Dinare, enjoy the fine views of the sea and St.Malo, dine, and return at dusk, leaving the house free for the weddingfestivities.

  The day was fine, and the ladies were graciously invited to behold thebride before she left for church. She looked as much like afashion-plate as it was possible for a living girl to look; and theydutifully kissed her on both cheeks, paid their compliments and retired,thanking their stars that they were not in her place.

  Mamma was gorgeous to behold, in royal purple and black lace. Gaston wasso glossy and beruffled and begemmed, that they gazed with awe upon theFrench Adonis. But the bridegroom was a sight for gods and men. In fullregimentals with a big sword, so many orders that there was hardly roomfor them on his little breast, and a cocked hat, with a forest offeathers, in which he extinguished himself at intervals. How his tinyboots shone, his tawny moustache bristled with importance, and hisgolden epaulets glittered as he shrugged and pranced! His honoured papaand mamma were both tall, portly people, beside whom the manikin lookedlike a child. Livy quite longed to see Madame Clomadoc take little Juleson her knee, and amuse him with _bonbons_ when he got impatient at thedelay of the carriage.

  The Three peeped out of windows, and over the banisters, and got fineglimpses of the splendours below. Flocks of elegant ladies went sailingup the narrow stairs. Gentlemen with orders, dandies wonderful tobehold, and a few children (to play with the bridegroom, as Livywickedly said), adorned the hall and _salon_. Every one talked at thetop of his or her voice. Shrieks of rapture, groans of despair, greeteda fine toilette or a torn glove. Peals of laughter from the gentlemen,and shrill cries from the infants, echoed through the once peacefulhalls. As Francoise said 'It was truly divine.'

  At eleven, every one trooped into the carriages again. How they ever gotso many full-dressed people into one carriage is a mystery to this day.But in they piled, regardless of trains, corpulency, or height; andcoach after coach lumbered away to the church.

  The bride's carriage could not be got very near the door. So she trippedout to it, leaning on her uncle's arm, while the devoted Gaston bore hertrain. Mamma sailed after in a purple cloud; and when two young damsels,in arsenic green, were packed in, away they went, leaving the bridegroomto follow.

  Then came the catastrophe! Stout papa and mamma were safely in; a friendof Jules, some six feet high, shut himself up like a jack-knife; andwith a farewell wave of the cocked hat, the small bridegroom skipped inafter them. The coachman cracked his whip, intending to dash under thearched gateway in fine style. But alas! the harness was old, the bighorses clumsy, and the road half paved. The trac
es gave way, the beastsreared, the big coach lurched, and dismal wails arose. Out burst thefierce little hero of the day, and the tall friend followed byinstalments.

  Great was the excitement as the natives gathered about the carriage withoffers of help, murmurs of sympathy, and unseemly mirth on the part ofthe boys. Jules did the swearing; and never were heard such big oaths asfell from the lips of this irate little man. It really seemed as if hewould explode with wrath. He dashed the impressive cocked hat upon thestones, laid his hand upon his sword, tore his hair, and clutched hismoustache in paroxysms of despair.

  His bride was gone, waiting in agitated suspense for him. No other coachcould be had, as the resources of the town had been exhausted. Theharness was in a desperate state, the men at their wit's end how tomend it, and time flying fast. _Maire_ and priest were waiting, thewhole effect of the wedding was being ruined by this delay, and 'tenthousand devils' seemed to possess the awkward coachman.

  During the flurry, Papa Clomadoc appeared to slumber tranquilly in therecesses of the carriage. Mamma endeavoured to soothe her boy with criesof 'Tranquillize yourself, my cherished son. It is nothing.' 'Come,then, and reassure papa.' 'Inhale the odour of my vinaigrette. It willcompose your lacerated nerves, my angel.'

  But the angel wouldn't come, and continued to dance and swear, and slaphis hat about until the damages were repaired, when he flung himself,exhausted, into the carriage, and was borne away to his bride.

  'A lively prospect for poor Pelagie.' 'What a little fiend he is!''Spinsters for ever!'

  With these remarks, the ladies ordered their own equipage, an infantomnibus, much in vogue in Dinan, where retired army officers, English orScotch, drive about with their little families of eighteen or twenty.One Colonel Newcome, a grave-looking man, used to come to church in abus of this sort, with nine daughters and four sons, like a patriarch.The strangers thought it was a boarding-school, till he presented theentire flock, with paternal pride, as 'my treasures.'

  Madame C., in a large Leghorn bonnet, trembling with yellow bows, ledthe way with an air of lofty indifference as to what became of her housethat day. Marie bore a big basket, full of cold fowls, salad, and wines;she also was in a new spring hat of purple, which made her rosy oldface look like a china aster. Lavinia reposed upon the other seat; andthe infants insisted on sharing the driver's seat, up aloft, that theymight enjoy the prospect, which freak caused Flabeau's boy to beam andblush till his youthful countenance was a deep scarlet.

  They had a pleasant day; for good old Madame soon recovered her temper,and beguiled the time with lively tales of her mother's trials duringthe Revolution.

  Marie concocted spiced drinks, salad that was a thing to dream of, notto tell, and produced such edible treasures that her big basket seemedbottomless.

  The frisky damsels explored ruins, ran races on the hard beach, sniffedthe salt breezes, and astonished the natives by swarming up and down'precipices,' as they called the rocks.

  That was a fatal day for Flabeau's boy (they never knew his name); for,as if the wedding had flown to his head, he lost his youthful heart toone of the lively damsels who invaded his perch. Such tender glances ashis China-blue eyes cast upon her; such grins of joy as he gave when shespoke to him; such feats of agility as he performed, leaping down togather flowers, or hurling himself over thorny hedges, to point out a_dolmen_ or a _menhir_ (they never could remember which was which).Alas, alas! for Flabeau's boy! Deeply was he wounded that day by theunconscious charmer, who would as soon have thought of inspiring love inthe bosom of the broken-nosed saint by the wayside as in the heart thatbeat under the blue blouse.

  I regret to say that 'the infants,' as Madame C. always called MissLivy's charges, behaved themselves with less decorum than could havebeen wished. But the proud consciousness that _they_ never could bedisposed of as Pelagie had been had such an exhilarating effect uponthem that they frisked like the lambs in the field.

  One drove the bus in a retired spot and astonished the stout horses bythe way in which she bowled them along the fine, hard road. The othersang college songs, to the intense delight of the old ladies, whoadmired the '_chants Ameriques_ so gay,' and to the horror of theirduenna, who knew what they meant. A shower came up, and they _would_remain outside; so the boy put up a leathern hood, and they sat insidein such a merry mood that the silent youth suddenly caught theinfection, and burst forth into a Breton melody, which he continued todrone till they got home.

  The house was a blaze of light when they arrived, and Francoise, themaid, came flying out to report sundry breakages and mishaps. How thesalad had precipitated itself downstairs, dish and all. How MonsieurGaston was so gay, so inconceivably gay, that he could hardly stand, andinsisted on kissing her clandestinely. That Mademoiselle Pelagie hadwept much because her veil was torn; and Madame F. had made a freshtoilette, ravishing to behold. Would the dear ladies survey the party,still at table? Regard them from the little window in the garden, andsee if it is not truly a spectacle the most superb!

  They did regard them, and saw the bride at the head of the table, eatingsteadily through the dessert; the bridegroom reciting poems withtremendous effect; Gaston almost invisible behind a barricade ofbottles; and Madame F., in violet velvet, diamonds, plumes, and lace,more sleek and buxom than ever. The ladies all talked at once, and thegentlemen drank healths every five minutes. A very French and festivescene it was; for the room was small, and twenty mortals were stowedtherein. One fat lady sat in the fireplace, Papa Clomadoc leaned hisheavy head upon the sideboard, and the plump shoulders of Madame F. werehalf out of the front window. 'But it was genteel. Oh! I assure you,yes,' as Francoise said.

  How long they kept it up the weary trio did not wait to see, but retiredto their beds, and slumbered peacefully, waking only when Gaston wasborne up to his room, chanting the 'Marseillaise' at the top of hisvoice.

  Next day M. and Madame Clomadoc, Jr., made calls, and Pelagie had thejoy of wearing her shawl. For three days she astonished the natives bypromenading with her lord in a fresh toilette each day. On the fourththey all piled into a big carriage, and went away to make a round ofvisits, before the young people settled down at Boulogne.

  The Americans never thought to hear any more of Pelagie; but, as dearold Madame C. wrote to them several times after they left, the littlestory may be finished here, though the sequel did not actually come tilla year later.

  Many were the sage predictions of the Three as to the success of thismarriage--Amanda approving of that style of thing, Matilda objectingfiercely to the entire affair, and Lavinia firmly believing in the goodold doctrine of love as your only firm basis for so solemn a bargain.

  Wagers were laid that the fiery little Colonel would shoot some one in ajealous fit, or that Pelagie would elope, or both charcoal themselves todeath, as the best way out of the predicament. But none of them guessedhow tragically it would really end.

  Late in the following spring came a letter from Madame C., telling themthat Jules had gone to the war, and been shot in his first battle; thatPelagie was with her mother again, comforting herself for her loss witha still smaller Jules, who never saw his father, and, it is to be hoped,did not resemble him. So little Pelagie's brief romance ended; and onewould fancy that the experiences of that year would make her quitecontent to remain under mamma's wing, with no lord and master but thelittle son, to whom she was a very tender mother.

  Pleasant days those were in quaint old Dinan; for spring's soft magicglorified earth and sky, and a delicious sense of rest and freedom gavea charm to that quiet life. Legends of romance and chivalry hung aboutthe ruins of castle and _chateau_, as green and golden as the ivy andbright wall-flowers that tapestried the crumbling walls, and waved likebanners from the turret tops. Lovely walks into woods, starred with paleprimroses, and fragrant with wild hyacinths; down green lanes, leadingto quaint cottages, or over wide meadows full of pink-tipped daisies anddear familiar buttercups, the same all the world over.

  Sometimes they took gay donkey-drives
to visit a solemn dolmen in agloomy pine-wood, with mistletoe hanging from the trees, and the ghostsof ancient Druids haunting the spot. The cavalcade on such occasions wasan imposing spectacle. Matilda being fond of horses likewise affecteddonkeys (or thought she did, till she tried to drive one), and usuallywent first in a small vehicle like a chair on wheels, drawn by ananimal who looked about the size of a mouse, when the stately Mat infull array, yellow parasol, long whip, camp-stool, and sketch-book, satbolt upright on her perch, driving in the most approved manner.

  The small beast, after much whipping, would break into a trot, and gopattering over the hard, white road, with his long ears wagging, and histiny hoofs raising a great dust for the benefit of the other turnoutjust behind.

  In a double chair sat Lavinia, bundled up as usual, and the amiableAmanda, both flushed with constant pokings and thrashings of theirsteed. A venerable ass, so like an old whity-brown hair trunk as to hisbody, and Nick Bottom's mask as to his head, that he was a constantsource of mirth to the ladies. Mild and venerable as he looked, however,he was a most incorrigible beast, and it took two immortal souls, andfour arms, to get the ancient donkey along.

  Vain all the appeals to his conscience, pity, or pride: nothing but asharp poke among his ribs, a steady shower of blows on his fuzzy oldback, and frequent 'yanks' of the reins produced any effect. It wasimpossible to turn out for anything, and the ladies resigned themselvesto the ignominy of sitting still, in the middle of the road, and lettingother carriages drive over or round them.

  On rare occasions the beast would bolt into the ditch as a vehicle drewnear; but usually he paused abruptly, put his head down, and apparentlywent to sleep.

  Matilda got on better, because little Bernard Du Guesclin, as she namedher mouse, was so very small, that she could take him up, and turn himround bodily, when other means failed, or pull him half into the chairif danger threatened in front. He was a sprightly little fellow, and hadnot yet lost all the ardour of youth, or developed the fiendishobstinacy of his kind; so he frequently ran little races--now and thenpranced, and was not quite dead to the emotion of gratitude in returnfor bits of bread.

  Truly, yes; the fair Mat with her five feet seven inches, and littleBernard, whose longest ear, when most erect, did not reach much aboveher waist, were a sweet pair of friends, and caused her mates greatamusement.

  'I must have some one to play with, for I can't improve my mind _all_the time as 'Mandy does, or cuddle and doze like Livy. I've hadexperience with young donkeys of all sorts, and I give you my wordlittle Bernie is much better fun than some I've known with shorter earsand fewer legs.'

  Thus Matilda, regardless of the jeers of her friends, when theyproposed having the small beast into the _salon_ to beguile the tediumof a rainy day.

  As the summer came on, picnics were introduced, and gay parties wouldpile into and on to Flabeau's small omnibus, and drive off to Hunandaye,Coetquen, La Belliere, Guingamp, or some other unpronounceable but mostcharming spot, for a day of sunshine and merrymaking.

  The hospitable English came out strong on these occasions, with ''ampersof 'am-sandwiches, bottled porter and so on, don't you know?' all infine style. Even the stout doctor donned his knickerbockers and greyhose, unfurled his Japanese umbrella, and, with a pretty niece on eitherarm, disported himself like a boy.

  But pleasantest of all were the daily strolls through the little townand its environs, getting glimpses of Breton manners and customs.

  The houses were usually composed of one room, where, near the open fire,and fixed against the wall, stands the bedstead or _lit clos_, of oldoak, shut in by carved sliding panels, often bearing an inscription orsome sacred symbol. The mattresses and feather-beds are so piled up,that there is hardly room to creep in. Before it is the big chestcontaining the family wardrobe, answering the double purpose of a seatand a step by which to ascend the lofty bed. Cupboards on each sideoften have wide shelves, where the children sleep. Settles and a longtable complete the furniture; the latter often has little wells hollowedout in the top to hold the soup instead of plates. Over the table,suspended by pulleys, are two indispensable articles in a Bretonhouse,--a large round basket to cover the bread, and a wooden frame tohold the spoons. Festoons of sausages, hams, candles, onions,horse-shoes, harness, and tools, all hang from the ceiling. The floor isof beaten earth. One narrow window lets in the light. There are noout-houses, and pigs and poultry mingle freely with the family.

  The gardens are well kept, and produce quantities of fruit andvegetables. The chief food of the poorer class is bread or porridge ofbuckwheat, with cabbage soup, made by pouring hot water over cabbageleaves and adding a bit of butter.

  They are a home-loving people, and pine like the Swiss, if forced toleave their native land. They are brave soldiers and good sailors.'Their vices,' as a Breton writer says, 'are avarice, contempt forwomen, and drunkenness; their virtues, love of home and country,resignation to the will of God, loyalty to each other, andhospitality.' Their motto is, 'En tout chemin loyaute.'

  They are very superstitious, and some of their customs are curious. AtNew Year pieces of bread and butter are thrown into the fountains, andfrom the way in which they swim the future is foretold. If the butteredside turns under, it forebodes death; if two pieces adhere together, itis a sign of sickness; and if a piece floats properly, it is anassurance of long life and prosperity.

  Girls throw pins into the fountain of Saloun to tell, by their manner ofsinking, when they will be married. If the pin goes down head-foremost,there is little hope; but, if the point goes first, it is a sure sign ofbeing married that year.

  Their veneration for healing-springs is very great, and, though attimes forbidden by the Church, is still felt. Pounded snails, worn in abag on the neck, is believed to be a cure for fever; and a certain holybell rung over the head, a cure for head-ache. 'If we believe in thatlast remedy, what a ceaseless tingling that bell would keep up inAmerica!' said Lavinia, when these facts were mentioned to her.

  In some towns they have, in the cemetery, a bone-house or reliquary. Itis the custom, after a certain time, to dig up the bones of the dead,and preserve the skulls in little square boxes like bird-houses, with aheart-shaped opening, to show the relic within. The names and dates ofthe deceased are inscribed outside.

  Saint Ives or Yves is a favourite saint, and images of him are in allchurches and over many doors. He was one of the remarkable charactersof the thirteenth century. He studied law in Paris, and devoted histalents to defending the poor; hence, he was called 'the poor man'sadvocate:' and so great is the confidence placed in his justice, that,even now, when a debtor falsely denies his debt, a peasant will paytwenty _sous_ for a mass to St. Ives, sure that the Saint will cause thefaithless creditor to die within the year or pay up.

  His truthfulness was such that he was called 'St. Yves de verite.' Hewas the special patron of lawyers, but he does not seem to be theirmodel.

  The early monks taught the people to work, and their motto was 'TheCross and the plough, labour and prayer.' They introduced apples, nowthe principal fruit of Brittany. Much cider is made and drank; and inold times they got their wine from France in exchange for wax andhoney, as they were famous bee-keepers. Great fields of buck-wheat stillafford food for the 'yellow-breeched philosophers,' and in many cottagegardens a row of queerly shaped hives stand in sunny nooks.

  These monks were the model farmers of those days, and their abbeys werefine farms. One had twenty piggeries, of three hundred pigs each, in itsforests. The monks also reared sheep and horses, and bred fish in theirponds.

  Many were also brewers, weavers, carpenters, and so on. Evidently theylived up to their motto and laboured quite as much as they prayed, anddoubtless were saved by works as well as by faith.

  The little Place Du Guesclin, with a stumpy statue of the famous knightin the middle and chestnut trees all around, was a favouriteresting-place of the ladies--especially when the weekly fair was heldand booths of all sorts were raised at one end. Here Amanda boug
ht aremarkable jack-knife, which would cut nothing but her fingers: Matildaspeculated in curious kinds of cake; one sort being made into giganticjumbles so light that they did excellently for grace-hoops; another sortbeing used by these vandals as catch-alls, so deep and tough were they.Lavinia examined the various fabrics, and got bits of linen as samples,also queer earthen pots and pans impossible to carry away.

  The church of St. Sauveur, a dim and ancient little place with DuGuesclin's heart buried by the side of his wife, was another haunt. Thecastle, now a prison, contained the arm-chair in which Duchess Anne sat,and the dungeons where were crammed two thousand English prisoners ofwar in the last century. The view from the platform of the keep wasmagnificent, extending to Mont Dol and the distant sea.

  The sunny promenade on the _fosse_, that goes half round the town, wasvery charming, with the old grey walls on one side, and, on the other,the green valley with its luxuriant gardens, and leafy lanes, winding upto the ruined _chateau_, or the undulating hills with picturesquewindmills whirling on the heights.

  On the other side of the town, from the high gardens of the church, onelooked down into the deeper valley of the Rance, with the airy viaductstriding from hill to hill, and the old part of the town nestling at itsbase.

  Soft and summery, fertile and reposeful, was the scene; and the busypeasants at their work added to the charm. Pretty English children withBreton nurses, each in the costume of her native town, played under thelindens all abloom with odorous flowers and alive with bees. Workmencame to these green places to eat the black bread and drink the thinwine that was all their dinner. Invalids strolled here after their bathsat the little house in the rose-garden below. Pretty girls walked therein the twilight with long-haired lovers in knee breeches and round hats.Nuns in their grey gowns went to and fro from hospital and the insaneasylum or charity school; and the beautiful old priest sometimes wentfeebly by, smiling paternally on his flock, who rose and uncoveredreverently as he passed.

  Flowers were everywhere,--in the gardens of the rich, at the windows ofthe poor. The stalls in the market were gay with plumy lilacs, splendidtulips, roses of every shade, and hyacinths heavy with odour. All alongthe borders of the river waved the blossoming grass; every green bankabout the mills at Lehon was yellow with dandelions, and the sunnyheads of little children welcoming the flower of the poor. Even theneglected churchyard of the ruined abbey, where the tombs of the statelyBeaumanoirs still stand, was bright with cheerful daisies and blue-eyedforget-me-nots.

  The willows in the valley were covered with fragrant tassels, and theold women and children sat all day on door-stones and by the waysidestripping the long, white wands for basket-making. Flax fields wereblooming in the meadows, and acres of buckwheat, with its rosy stems andsnowy blossoms, whitened the uplands with a fair prophecy of bread forall.

  So, garlanded about with early flowers and painted in spring's softest,freshest colours, Brittany remains for ever a pleasant picture in thememory of those who have been welcomed to its hospitable homes, andfound friends among its brave and loyal people.