They were still dancing and singing and eating at the farm-house at Belair at midnight on the third day of the festivities attending Germain’s wedding.  The old men were seated at the table, unable to leave it, and for good reason.  They did not recover their legs and their wits until the next day at dawn.  At that time, while they sought their homes, in silence and with uncertain steps, Germain, proud and well-content, went out to yoke his cattle, leaving his young wife to sleep until sunrise.  The lark, singing as he flew upward to the sky, seemed to him to be the voice of his heart, giving thanks to Providence.  The hoar-frost, glistening on the bare bushes, seemed to him the white April blossoms that precede the appearance of the leaves.  All nature was serene and smiling in his eyes.  Little Pierre had laughed and jumped about so much the day before, that he did not come to help him to drive his oxen; but Germain was content to be alone.  He fell on his knees in the furrow through which he was about to run his plough once more, and repeated the morning prayer with such emotion that the tears rolled down his cheeks, still moist with perspiration.

In the distance could be heard the songs of the youths from the adjoining parishes, just starting for home, and repeating, in voices somewhat the worse for wear, the merry refrains of the preceding night.

NOTES

[Footnote 1: 

    By the sweat of thy brow
    Thou wilt earn thy poor livelihood;
    After long travail and service,
    Lo! Death comes and calls thee.
]

[Footnote 2:  The name applied to the road which turns aside from the main street at the entrance to a village and runs along its outskirts.  It is supposed that people who fear that they may receive some merited affront will take that road to avoid being seen.—­Author’s Note.]

[Footnote 3: 

     Open the door, yes, open,
     Marie, my darling,
    I have beautiful gifts to offer you. 
    Alas! my dear, pray let us in.
]

[Footnote 4: 

    My father grieves, my mother’s deathly sad,
    And I am too pitiful a daughter
    To open my door at such an hour.
]

[Footnote 5: 

I have a fine handkerchief to offer you.
]

[Footnote 6: 

     Open the door, yes, open,
     Marie, my darling,
    ’Tis a handsome husband who comes to seek you. 
    Come, my dear, and let us let them in.
]

[Footnote 7:  Man of straw—­from paille (straw).]

List of Illustrations

THE DEVIL’S POOL

LITTLE MARIE TENDING HER SHEEP

PIERRE’S STRATAGEM

PIERRE’S EVENING PRAYER